


Mistaken Truths

by Calon



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: #thuglife, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, But I haven't updated in a while..., Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Heartbreak, Hurt/Comfort, I Tried..., I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I've had a long week..., Love, M/M, Mpreg, Oh and it's rated 'Mature' cause I'm Paranoid!, So this isn't great..., TW: Graphic Birth, TW: Panic Attacks, TW: SelfHarm, tw: depression, tw: miscarriage
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-30
Updated: 2016-08-29
Packaged: 2018-04-29 00:00:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 30
Words: 24,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5110259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Calon/pseuds/Calon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>d'Artagnan knew it was a mistake to involve himself with the King's Musketeers...but the problem is that this was a mistake d'Artagnan was more than willing to make...and these are the consequences...</p><p>Sorry that's a pretty rubbish summary...<br/>But I'm tired again...<br/>And I've run out of coffee...<br/>xxx</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Elenduen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elenduen/gifts).



> Hey!!!  
> I'm back! Well temporarily anyway...  
> This week has been the week from hell...literally...(No hallowe'en pun intended!) I have been in and out of hospital appointments, through mountain sized piles of work, I've been ill...AGAIN! and my internet has been messing with my head...AGAIN!!! Aggghhrrr!!!  
> So yeah, forgive my lack of enthusiasm...I'm just gonna go drown myself in ice cream for a couple of hours....  
> But meanwhile...you can read this!!! Hahaha! I really hope you all enjoy it and I've especially gifted it to my beloved Elenduen who is the bomb.com!!!  
> Anyway! Please enjoy and leave kudos...I'm in a sentimental and fragile state so go easy! Hahaha!!!  
> All my love,  
> Calon.  
> xxx

**Eastern Paris- Early Morning.**

Shifting beams of soft golden sunlight fell delicately across d’Artagnan’s face as the early morning sun rose, breaking through the thin moth eaten curtains and throwing distorted shadows across the room.

Only when the Gascon blinked his bleary eyes open, there wasn't the comforting warmth of another beside him, but an empty frozen space which reminded him of every single drop of misery that had settled in his body and weighed his very being down.

Hot, calming tears washed over his eyes and a thick lump lodged itself in his throat stubbornly and refused to budge as he heaved himself from the dusty sheets.

Padding numbly over to the semi-open window, d’Artagnan gazed mindlessly out of the window and at the dreary Parisian streets below before closing it firmly.

He sighed heavily as his eyes turned back to his empty bed and his mind fooled him into seeing his old memories of a time when that wasn't the case. When his bed was filled with three sleeping musketeers and his heart was filled with something he'd once thought was...love…

Once.

Shaking his head softly, he turned stiffly away and dredged up his pitcher of cool water to wash his face and rinse his hair. Before dressing quickly and pausing before the mirror.

He looked awful.

Dark bruised bags slumped heavily under his eyes, his cheekbones hollowed out and painfully pale, his frame weak and underfed and the scars and cuts running up and down his arms beneath his shirt made him feel physically unwell.

But before his downward spiral of self-hate and before he lurched for the nearest bottle of wine, a small child keening cry pulled him away.

And it saved him.

Moving briskly over to the small cradle beside his bed, d’Artagnan smiled warmly at the waking babe within it. Her beautifully darkened skin, short curly hair and bizarre blue eyes taking his breath away once again. She looked so much like them...but that only made him love her more.

Scooping her up he pulled her tightly to his chest humming the same whispering tune his own mother had sung to him as a child, d’Artagnan smiled down at his pup.

At his daughter.

***

** Athos’ Apartments- North of the Garrison- Late morning. **

Athos stared vacantly at the slowly emptying bottle of wine in his hand.

_12 months._

The words continued to be hmissed into his ears, only quietening slightly with each almighty swig of alcohol.

_12 months._

Athos bit his lip harshly, mixing his blood with the foul tasting cheap wine he'd managed to find, as burning tears sprung to his eyes and his fist clenched tightly around the dark green bottle's neck.

_12 months since they'd cast d’Artagnan out._

_Since they'd thrown out their Omega._

_12 goddamned months._

_And still no sign._

_Nothing._

Sickening thoughts spilt and spread like black ink through Athos’ mind as various horrific scenarios poisoned his mind.

_Was he dead?_

_Forced into some brothel?_

_Alone?_

_Healthy?_

_Safe?_

The questions never ended and what made things worse, was that what they'd done had not only destroyed their lives but also d'Artagnan's.

_12 months._

_12 months since Athos’ heart had snapped in two…_

_***_


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Letting out a gut wrenching wail, d'Artagnan dropped to the floor in a broken heap with an almighty thump.
> 
> And within him.
> 
> His pup stirred too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my lovelies!!!  
> Happy Hallowe'en everyone! (Sorry I'm a day late!) I hope you all enjoy this chapter, it's a little graphic so watch out! But enjoy and leave comments/kudos and subscribe!!!  
> All my love,  
> Calon.  
> xxx

**12 Months Earlier- The Garrison- Early morning.**

d’Artagnan walked briskly into the Garrison, keeping his joints from seizing up in the early morning frost and willing himself to beat the sun from fully rising before he arrived.

A warm grin spread across his face as he turned the corner and saw his three lovers stood by the Garrisons’ gates, waiting for him.

His grin hitched however as his eyes settled on their faces. Which showed only one emotion.

_Anger._

“What's going on?” He asked with a frown as the three directed their icy cool glares directly at him.

Athos’ response was a sharp, throbbing punch sent spiraling across the Gascon's face. Porthos catching him by the scruff of his collar before he hit the floor as Aramis tried to ease Athos’ outburst feebly.

d’Artagnan blinked in stunned stupor as the three yanked him up towards Treville’s office and tossed him hard against the floor before the Captain's feet.

“Wha-?” d’Artagnan tried, his voice catching in his throat as his mouth ran dry at the hateful looks the four Alphas before him were wearing.

Scuffing his knees against the floorboards, d’Artagnan pried himself off the floor and stood weakly before them, their eyes burning holes in his skin.

He cleared his throat raggedly. “Is there-”

“There is a problem, d’Artagnan.” Treville ground out, glaring down at the boy. 

d’Artagnan swallowed thickly.

“We received an anonymous tip a few weeks ago, suggesting that you had been sharing information with the Comte de Rochefort to do with France's security and military status with the Musketeers.” Treville stated coldly, eyeing d’Artagnan up. “At first, we were willing to disregard said tip as mere feeble minded gossip.”

d’Artagnan’s blood ran cold in his veins.“But then,” he said tersely. “Then twenty two of my men were murdered by the border, their top secret location discovered by a band of Spanish bandits who we believe to have contact with Rochefort. You were briefed about said mission and their location and that very same night you were seen leaving towards the Palace. Towards Rochefort.”

d’Artagnan’s mouth opened and closed helplessly in shell shocked disbelief. He couldn't even remember yesterday's briefing let alone the briefing Treville was speaking of. And the only reason he'd been headed for the Palace was because he required to see Lemay…

But before d’Artagnan could even open his mouth to explain this, he was seized by the collar and shoved up against the wall by Aramis.

“We let you into our home!” He barked. “We showed you are greatest love and respect despite your...gender.”

d’Artagnan felt as if he'd been punched in the gut by Aramis’ blatant remark on him being an Omega within the ranks.

“We thought you were our friend!” He ground out, the burning anger now replacing itself with heartache as salted tears filled the Spaniards eyes. “We thought you cared.”

Loosening his grip on the Gascon's doublet, the Sharpshooter stepped back. It was Porthos’ turn next.

Slamming the boy back against the wall with bone crushing strength, d’Artagnan blinked away black spots as the man snarled above him, the words slipping soundlessly passed his ears as they all began yelling.

Only Athos remained silent.

 _Simmering_.

d’Artagnan stared at him. “You really believe I would betray you?” He asked quietly. His bland look answered it in a second. “Of course you do.” He breathed, his voice hitching and eyes brimming with tears. “Of course you do.”

Pulling himself free from Porthos’ unyielding grip, d’Artagnan eased of his pauldron and after a second's hesitation handed it over to Treville, his eyes never leaving the floor.

“Of course you do.” He repeated before sparing one last glance to his slightly conflicted...friends?

Wiping his eyes roughly to stop a single tears falling, the boy pulled away from the four Alphas and rushed out of the door.

“Coward!” Someone yelled.

“Omega Whore!” Another voice called.

“Disgrace!” Another one added.

But the cry that hit d’Artagnan to his very core was:

“Traitor!”

***

**That Very Evening- A Parisian Brothel.**

Porthos stared over at his two companions and scandalous mates with open hurt before he nodded over to a young Beta woman slipping between crowds of swaying men.

He swallowed thickly. “Her.”

Aramis nodded quickly before gesturing to a young ‘too big for his boots’ Alpha boy flirting with some older Alphas by the bar. He coughed softly and cleared his throat in shame. “Him.”

Athos, who'd remained morosely silent for most of the evening finally clicked back to life. “Her.” He said miserably, clunking down his tankard of wine and gazing over at another Beta wench. He cleared his throat again, unwilling to meet his brother's eyes. “If we are to sever the bond with...d'Artagnan.” He paused the name getting lodged in his throat as the fresh sensation of bitter betrayal lanced through his heart. “Then we must do so through our infidelity to the bond...meaning we must lay with another… No mating required, it's not even compulsory to sleep with them, a kiss would do...but your heart must be completely in it...the best way to do that is sleep with another...just…just to betray of the bond…”

Both Porthos and Aramis nodded stiffly.

“Okay.” Aramis choked uncomfortably. “We will do what has to be done.”

***

**Meanwhile- The Garrison Apartments.**

d’Artagnan was packing his things dutifully and through choked sobs when a sudden explosion of pain in his chest had him dropping to his knees in a wail of agony.

Clutching the fabric of his thin shirt so tightly that his nails dug into the soft flesh beneath, d’Artagnan gasped and moaned in pain as the bond was severed between him and his mates.

For them it wouldn't hurt. For them it would mean nothing.

But for d’Artagnan in meant bloodcurdling agony. His bond-marks sparking to life with raw flames before scarring over hideously. The three bite marks leaving horrifying burns across his collarbone, clavicle and throat.

Letting out a gut wrenching wail, d'Artagnan dropped to the floor in a broken heap with an almighty thump.

And within him.

His pup stirred too.

***


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You are not alone, boy.” She said softly and watched how his tear filled brown orbs met hers with no sign of hope.
> 
> “Am I not?”

**10 Months Ago- The Court Of Miracles.**

d’Artagnan sat silently as an old, decrepit Court midwife continued to babble aimlessly about his ‘stunted growth’ and ‘frail body.’

“And where are the lovely Alphan’s today?” She smiled, her voice croaked and posture slumped as d’Artagnan peeled off his shirt to give her better access to his slowly swelling stomach and breasts. Her eyes hitched, however, over the horrifying scars on his body and the question died in her mouth.

d'Artagnan swallowed heavily to dissolve the lump in his throat as tears slipped from his eyes. “Yes…” he whispered. “They're, uh...not with me…”

The midwife gazed with old, sad eyes at the pregnant Omega before her and squeezed his shoulder comfortingly. “You are not alone, boy.” She said softly and watched how his tear filled brown orbs met hers with no sign of hope.

“Am I not?”

***

**11 Months Ago- Not Far From The Garrison.**

Aramis frowned and continued to wander through the streets back to the Garrison as his brothers pushed on ahead of him.

They'd just completed their most recent mission, which ended in a brief confrontation with Athos’ murderous ex-wife, Anne. Who'd taken to prancing around them smugly and continually mentioning d'Artagnan's name at different moments and once subtly mentioned his fall from grace accompanied with a fiendish smile.

A sickening sensation swirled in the Spaniards stomach as he began to question their drastic measures taken towards the Gascon.

_Could they have had it all wrong?_

His trail of disturbing thoughts were suddenly shattered when a rather bedraggled Doctor Lemay staggered into him.

“Oh Aramis!” He gasped, taking a step back as the Sharpshooter steadied him. “Just the musketeer I wanted to see!”

“Is all well?” Athos queried as stalked towards the pair once he'd notice Aramis had stopped.

Lemay smiled back at him, his eyes bright and hopeful. “Well, you see. I was wondering where d’Artagnan was because a few weeks ago now...maybe a month...he approached me at the palace with concerns over bouts of morning sickness and dizziness and well he hasn't seen me since...so really I’m just wondering how the baby was doing and if the sickness and dizzy spells have eased?”

“Baby?” Athos asked, his voice no louder than a thin whisper, blinking owlishly as though he's been punched in the gut. “What baby?”

Lemay stated up at Athos with a frown. “Wait...he didn't tell you?” He questioned in disbelief as he watched the baffled faces before him. “Last time I checked he was buzzing to tell you...I thought you would know anyway...he's almost two months down now…”

“Two months.” Porthos gasped as the pieces began fitting together in his head. 

Aramis’ head snapped up.

“We were wrong.”

***


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They said it would get easier.
> 
> They were wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi!!!  
> I'm still alive! Just in case you were wondering! Hahaha! I've finished up a couple of chapters now and I'll be updating again soon! But in the mean time I hope you enjoy! As usual comments, kudos and subscriptions are always much appreciated.  
> All my love,  
> Calon.  
> xxz

**10 Months Ago- A Parisian Brothel- Late Evening.**

d’Artagnan stumbled out of the brothel into the cool midnight air swirling around Paris and wretch up the contents of his stomach- which wasn't much.

He could still feel his last customers hands all over him. 

 _Touching_  him.

_They said it would get easier._

Wiping away the string of bile dribbling from his swollen lips, d’Artagnan leant heavily against the rotten wall and closed his eyes, sending a prayer heavenward as his hands rested comfortingly against his stomach.

So far the swelling hadn't showed through too much, the lack of food and nutrients helping to hide it. But d’Artagnan knew that the second his situation was revealed his boss would have him out on his arse in an instant. Leaving him jobless, penniless and almost four months pregnant, Alpha-less and all...

Sucking in a calming breath d’Artagnan readied himself to re enter the tavern and find his final customer for the night, a flickering flame of determination igniting in his stomach.

He really didn't want to have to beg and steal for food...again...

Straightening up his clingy shirt and not allowing himself to complain about the tightness of his breeches, the Gascon forced himself back into the tavern…

And sold his soul to the devil once more.

_They said it would get easier._

_They were wrong._

***

**Present Day-The Court Market Square- Late Morning.**

d’Artagnan smiled softly as young Anaïs wriggled and giggled happily in his arms as he approached the buzzing Market square.

Keeping the tiny Omega close to his chest he skirted the usual stalls and went about his business silently. Keeping out of people's way and not talking back… A lesson he'd learnt very early on...the hard way…

Picking up a couple of small milk cartons from a rather run down looking stall for Anaīs later, since she was still only three months old and couldn't manage solids...not to mention the fact that d’Artagnan was in no state to be able to breastfeed her.

Sighing heavily, he handed over his final coin for the week.

All he wanted to do was get back to the safety of his dingy apartments and off these twisted streets. He felt uneasy today, some sixth sense he'd picked up from his time as a musketeer; he just knew something wasn't right.

Anaïs began growing restless too and the Gascon decided it would be best to get her home before she demonstrated her wonderfully powerful lungs to the whole court...again.

It was as he shifted through the ever swaying crowds of rowdy hagglers that a bone chilling voice called out his name and d'Artagnan's world slowed down.

Athos.

***


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gritting his teeth and sobbing openly, d’Artagnan gave one final push and from it came a cry that was not his own.
> 
> His pups!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, my dearies!  
> Another update for you all! I just wanted to put up a Trigger Warning for graphic birth and miscarriages. If you are worried or concerned about anything you read leave a comment. But please DO NOT read if you find anything like that difficult or upsetting.   
> Any who...good news this week! One if my closest friends just gave birth to a perfect little boy! It was a pretty easy birth but the whole time Ii was sat outside chewing off my hand practically... While also deciding whether it would be called Athos, Aramis, Porthos or d'Artagnan...XD! But anyway the child and mother are doing fine! So I can chill now! (And oddly enough, she didn't take any of the names I offered...hahaha!)  
> Anyway...hope you enjoy this chapter...because I'm so committed that I wrote this all with a sock on my left hand...because I somehow managed to high five a piece of lego and I now feel like my hand's about to fall off! Hahaha!  
> All my love,  
> Calon.  
> xxx

**3 Months Ago- d’Artagnan’s Apartments- Eastern Paris- Evening.**

“Bare down!” The midwife shrieked loudly, pressing d’Artagnan’s thighs even wider apart. “Bare down!”

d'Artagnan choked out another agonized cry as yet another wave of fierce pain slammed into him, the pressure building in his stomach and a devastating sensation of clenching tearing through his womb.

And he pushed, crying out as hot tears slid down his face, his hand clenching the bedsheets...not a hand…

All he wanted...all he needed was a caring presence, someone who could hold his hand, tell him he was okay, that he was being strong…

But he was _alone_.

And _afraid_.

Gasping and moaning as the pain eased again briefly, d’Artagnan puffed and panted drowsily, his head rolling against the pillows as his body was drained of energy. “Nearly there, boy!” The midwife cried as another explosion of pain shook through the Gascons body. “I can see the head! Just one more push!”

Gritting his teeth and sobbing openly, d’Artagnan gave one final push and from it came a cry that was not his own.

His pups!

The midwife shifted around silently and d'Artagnan's heart began thumping wildly in his chest.

_Something was wrong…_

“What is it!?” He croaked as he tried to shift and reach out to her. “Where's my baby?!”

Promptly, two younger midwives in training who'd accompanied the head moved to restrain d'Artagnan's weak body.

“No, no, no!” He sobbed, shaking and struggling against their unyielding grips desperately. “Where's my baby!? Give me my baby!”

The head midwife nodded swiftly over to the others with saddened eyes before approaching d'Artagnan and gently placing a small bundle in his arms.

d’Artagnan choked out a ragged sob as his world was suddenly filled with blinding light, summer warmth and the softness of spring. He thought his face would crack in half with how broadly he was smiling.

“Hello, little one.” He whispered breathlessly as the small bundle of joy wriggled in his arms. Not a shrill cry to be heard but a gentle smile which highlighted tiny little dimples.

She was beautiful.

Warm bronzed skin, almost the tone soft mocha, small plump pale lips, a perfect little nose and already a head of gentle dark brown curls.

Although she hadn't opened her eyes yet, d’Artagnan knew they'd hold a part of Athos.

d’Artagnan laughed softly as her small chubby fingers wrapped around one of his. However it died prematurely in his throat when the midwife looked sadly upon him.

“What is it?” He asked in a fragile hushed voice, as frozen dread spilt across his stomach.

“I'm afraid the other didn't make it.” She said softly as she squeezed his arm. “I’m afraid he perished long ago...possibly when the bond between you and your mates was broken…” She said softly as tears swelled in her eyes for the kind Gascon. “It's a wonder this one made it.”

d’Artagnan gasped as fresh tears sprung to his eyes. Yet still he clutched his daughter even more tightly, both mourning his lost pup but also celebrating his surviving one. Even so, the happiness inside him faded suddenly, but a whimper from his daughter pulled him back. 

“She's a miracle.” He forced out gently. “A grace.”

The midwife nodded with a wide smile. “What will you name her? Your little grace from God.”

d’Artagnan paused for a few moments.

“Anaïs...I’ll- I’ll... call her Anaïs.”

***

** Present Day- The Court Market- Late Morning. **

Athos stared in stunned shock at the figure before him.

_Surely he was seeing things?_

“d’Artagnan?” He gasped, his heart leaping in his chest and mouth running dry as pained, huffed breaths broke from his nose.

Slowly, and purposefully, d’Artagnan spun around to face the older musketeer, his own face a mask of horror and fear.

Athos suddenly felt faint.

Moving forwards slightly he made to touch the boy, make sure he was real. That he was really there.

But it was at that moment that d’Artagnan’s brain clicked into motion and he sprinted off as if the dead were at his heels.

“Wait!” Athos cried, startling both Aramis and Porthos who'd been patrolling the stalls suspiciously. “d'Artagnan!”

Then he took off, pushing and shoving people out if the way so he could reach the Gascon.

“d'Artagnan! Please!”

***


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Why wasn't he good enough?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!  
> So sorry I haven't updated in a really really long time! But here it is! I hope you guys all have a fantastic Christmas! And I'm wishing you all the best and hope you have a brilliant day!  
> Before we begin...  
> I'd just like to put up a warning for garphic self harm and suicidal thoughts for this chapter. If you ever do consider self harm or suicide call this number immediately:  
> USA: 1-800-273-TALK  
> UK: 0800-068-41-41  
> This content is not meant to upset or offend anyone. Please be careful.  
> All my love,  
> Calon.  
> xxx

**Mistaken Truths. 6 Months Ago- Eastern Paris- d’Artagnan’s Apartments- Night Time.**

d’Artagnan gazed down at his scarred arms and allowed the same soul crushing question to bounce around his brain again and again, straining miserably against his broken bond.

_Why wasn't he good enough?_

Pulling out his embroidered silver dagger, The Gascon positioned it purposefully against the marred skin. Paused. Then dragged the blade across the soft pale flesh of his forearm.

_Again..._

_And again..._

_And again..._

_Why wasn't he good enough?_

It stung like hell. But he was used to it. Of course he was. He had a habit of screwing things up after all.

It was almost amusing.

_Almost…_

There was a lot of blood now, maybe too much, but it wasn't like he really cared.

The action was drilled into his subconscious by now, so much so that sometimes he found himself repeating the action with his fingers against his covered arms. Nothing too serious, but enough to gain some...confused glances from strangers.

_Worthless Traitor._

The whispering voice in his head supplied eagerly.

He dug the dagger deeper still, watching in some warped state of awe as a thick, dark blood continued to slip across his skin and drip towards the floor.

The same names bounced tirelessly around his brain, sparking each movement into action.  

_Athos, Aramis, Porthos, Treville, Alexandre, Constance, the musketeers, his family…_

The dagger was placed precariously over his wrist now, the blade at the perfect angle to end it all.

Yet with one brief glance down to his stomach, now swelling with the sweet life within, the dagger fell to the floor and d’Artagnan cleaned and wrapped his arms without thought.

_Dying would be selfish._

He reminded himself half heartedly.

 _You will be an Oman before long_.

Sighing heavily, having run out if tears in the early evening hours, d’Artagnan curled up on his bed.

Tightly wrapping his bloodied arms in some shabby bandages laid out on his night stand that he'd accumulated from the markets.

Before resuming his usual rocking pace, and d’Artagnan positioned himself between a nest of pillows and began easing himself to sleep. Imagining the comfort of caring bodies beside him, rather than the flea and rot ridden pillows the Landlady had to offer.

But darkness still came uncharacteristically slowly.

***

**Present Day- The Court Market- Late Morning.**

Athos threw himself over a fallen cart, his eyes focused on d’Artagnan and d’Artagnan alone as he sprinted after him.

Aramis and Porthos were flanking his sides as he did so, their minds racing at a quicker pace than their legs were moving.

d’Artagnan zipped and shot around alleyways like a rat, flying away from the threesome as of they were a group of hungry wolves.

He made one fatal mistake however. d’Artagnan skidded to a halt before a huge stone wall.

A dead end.

Gasping in both physical exertion and utter terror, d’Artagnan whipped round to face the three looming shadows stalking towards him from the alleyway opening.

“d’Artagnan.” Athos breathed, remaining low to the ground as if he was approaching a spooked horse. “It's okay.”

d’Artagnan pressed himself up against the wall, searching for any kind of possible escape.

“Please.” He managed to choke out, pulling Anaïs even closer to his chest.

“It's okay.” Athos reassured him, extending his hand out to the boy who stared at it as if it were a knife.

d’Artagnan swallowed thickly as his bond screamed at him to run, to fight, to get away. But little Anaïs tightened her grip around his shirt and he stood frozen before the three Alphas, their eyes all trained on the small bundle in his arms.

“Is that…” Arams managed, his eyes wide and alight...happiness perhaps? But d'Artagnan's whole was only focused on the fact Athos was still approaching him steadily, to really notice.

“Stay back.” d’Artagnan gasped, no more than a whisper.

But Athos heard.

“Don't take my pup, please-please don't take my pup…”

“We won't.” Athos said softly, his voice wavering. “d’Artagnan...we just want to help…”

d'Artagnan's lips quirked into a slight mirthless smile as tears sprung to his eyes. “I don't need your _help_.”

***


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Athos’ heart seized in his chest.
> 
> Porthos felt his world slow down.
> 
> Aramis failed to breathe.
> 
> xxx

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey Guys!  
> Thank you so much for your recent comments and kudos! Thy mean the world to me!!! Hope you've all had a fabby Christmas and a brilliant new year!  
> Just wanted to put a TW for a graphically explained panic attack in this chapter. I personally suffer from anxiety (PTSD) and panic attacks on a regular basis so it's actually based on my attacks, so I was able to go into some detail. Please do not read this if you're easily upset, triggered etc. Id hate for my writing to start anything off!  
> Anyway, please enjoy!  
> All my love,  
> Calon.  
> xxx

** 9 Months Ago- The Morgue- Late Evening.  **

“A young omega, dark eyes and hair, olive complexion, healthy…” Athos repeated the same description once again. “Pregnant.”

The undertaker frowned for a few moments, the cogs turning in his mind. “Got one in just this evenin’!” He said with a nod. “Some pregnant beggar boy.”

Athos’ heart seized in his chest.

Porthos felt his world slow down.

Aramis failed to breathe.

“This way!” The undertaker chimed in an inappropriately jolly voice as he led the three alphas through the drizzly catacombs, his feet clipping briskly against the deathly cold floor.

The three musketeers were led on for what felt like hours until they finally reached the covered body.

Swallowing the choking knot wedged in his throat, Athos moved forwards stiffly, taking the rough white fabric between his fingers and peeling it backwards to reveal the bodies face.

He'd barely taken a look when Aramis let out a sob of relief.

_It wasn't d’Artagnan._

Athos felt dizzy with relief had to lean on the side of the stone alter the body had been placed on for support.

 _It wasn't d’Artagnan_.

He let it all sink in.

_d’Artagnan was alive._

Closing his eyes and forcing himself to regain some form of equilibrium, Athos pushed forwards and moved towards his brothers.

“Let's go.” He stated firmly.

Because d’Artagnan was alive.

***

**Present Time- Eastern Paris- Alleyway- Late Morning.**

The bitterness in the Gascon's voice froze Athos to the spot. The boys fear had now manipulated itself into sheer hatred and anger as his bond worked to protect him.

It was well known that once and Omegas bond was shattered, that emotional connection that ran within every person, would physically try and protect themselves from getting hurt again. 

“Just stay back!” d’Artagnan grit out, his hollowed eyes searching desperately for an exit, as he edged slightly along the wall he was pressed up against.

Athos felt a dead weight plummet to his stomach and his knees suddenly felt weak.

“d’Artagnan-” Aramis tried weakly, extending his hand in some pathetic attempt to reach the boy and the wiggly child in his arms. “Please.”

d'Artagnan swallowed thickly, he suddenly felt utterly defenseless...vulnerable. The world began shifting and swinging beneath him, and unseen noose snaking its way around his throat, the air seemingly impossibly thin, he clutched his chest with his spare hand, is heart pounding from his chest, everything becoming too bright, too loud. His thoughts were racing, voices and images rushing through his mind, his limbs weak and tingling. 

_This was it._

There were suddenly hands on him.

Faint voices penetrating through his haze.

Something was removed from his grip. Then there was sharp unyielding pain swiped across his cheek and everything began clearing.

Athos was crouched before him, Porthos rubbing his back as the older man's hands cradled his face. “Breathe d’Artagnan, you're okay. You're okay.”

A gurgled breath passed his lips and he nodded, his head feeling impossibly heavy and his body floating on some unseen cool mist.

“Good.” Athos said softly, his thumbs running against his cheeks, but the Gascon was too shaken to move away. “Breathe with me,” he instructed, taking d'Artagnan's numb fingers and pressing them against his steady chest. “Like this, in and out, exhales longer than your inhales, nice and steady.”

d'Artagnan's jaw clenched and unclenched as he tried to regain equilibrium but Athos could already sense the panic gathering again.

“d'Artagnan?” He asked gently noticing how the boy flinched at the sound of his voice. “Can you tell me about Gascony?”

Although the situation was fragile, the mere mention of home brightened d'Artagnan's eyes.

Releasing a shaky cough and wetting his lips, d’Artagnan began, his sentences breathless at first. “T’s not...like ‘ere…” He gasped out, gulping back as the rope around his throat prevented him from swallowing properly. “S’not ‘s dark…’s’always light, ‘n ev’ryb’dy knows each oth’r...an’ in th’ summer when the evenin’s were longer the sun paint’d the sky, an...and we us’d to try and chase the sunset…” he paused. “It was beautiful…”

Athos’ eyes watered and he nodded, waiting for the threat of his voice wobbling to fade. “And what about the winter?”

d’Artagnan’s shoulders eased a little. “Cold.” He replied with a wry smile, which was enough of a signal to Athos that d’Artagnan had calmed.

“Can you walk?” He asked, and d'Artagnan chewed his lip in shame of answering, he just so impossibly tired, most likely so would Anaïs... _Anaïs!_

He lurched upwards, causing the world to swirl before him once more.

Porthos steadied him, accidentally touching the burned bond mark as he gripped the back of his neck. d’Artagnan cried out in pain and fell forwards, a roaring pain slipping over his bond and lurching it painfully and pulling in swirling blackness to shroud his vision.

Distantly he remembers voices but they were too far away to decipher.

***

**Present Time- Northern Paris- The Musketeer's Old Apartment- Nearing Midday.**

One Hour Later, d'Artagnan was placed down gently on the large bed situated in their old apartment, the soft linen sheets cushioning his fragile and broken body.

Porthos hands trembled uncontrollably as he stroked the Gascons hair, and tears enroached his vision. “I’m so sorry.” He gasped.

“Hey.” Athos called softly, gripping his brothers shoulder. “It wasn't your fault.”

Porthos nodded and squeezed his leaders hand, although it was clear he was unconvinced. Turning on his heels, Athos’ eyes settled on Aramis and the pup.

Their pup.

His pup.

She was perfect.

Crossing the room, the musketeer peeled the babe from the Spainards arms who nodded with watery eyes before moving to tend to d’Artagnan, to which Porthos, who felt oblidged to, helped also.

Well up untill the point he wanted to hold his pup.

Tears swelled in the larger mans eyes as Athos passed the child over unwillingly, tears still damp on his own cheeks.

The little child wrapped her chubby little fingers around Porthos’ finger and giggled, her striking blue eyes gazing warmly into his.

“She’s gorgeous.” Porthos whispered, stroking her cheek. Then after a pause. "What have we done?" Athos looked up suddenly, shocked to find Porthos sobbing openly.

Steadily the man guided Porthos over to a chair without hesitation and rubbed his shoulder soothingly as tears dripped down his own cheeks.

“The pregnacy, first kick, birth, first smile…we weren't there...they were both alone...d’Artagnan-” He blubbered, and the little child moaned in his arms, distressed at her Alphans upset.

Athos nodded wordlessly.

And baby Anaïs cried.

***


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Sorry I disappeared for a while again! But here it is! I hope you all enjoy! Please read, comment and leave kudos!  
> All my love,  
> Calon.  
> xxx

**8 Months Ago- Eastern Paris- d’Artagnan’s apartment- Early Evening.**

d’Artagnan sat on the end of his bed chewing his nails uneasily. With nervous eyes he peeked at the nearly 2 sous that lay there, a good 17 sous short if his rent, a good 17 sous short of his life.

It was an hour later that the terrifying sound of thundering footsteps echoed across the hallway and penetrated through the thin rickety door that separated it from the Gascon’s room. d’Artagnan braced himself.

The door swung open and smashed against the wall.

“Well, well, well,” Monsieur Rayard leered as he entered the boys room. “What's yer excuse this time then?”

d’Artagnan suppressed the urged to scream.

The ex-musketeer cleared his throat and those from the bed. “Business ain’t good…”

Rayard boomed out a laugh, sending spittle flying into d’Artagnan’s face.

“Right then!” He cried as he stalked closer to the omega. “Let's see if you can make it up.”

And with that the Alpha forced d’Artagnan back against the bed, pulling down his breeches, and pinning the small omega beneath him, unconcerned for the gentle swell showing his pregnancy. 

And for d'Artagnan everything faded out.

***

 

** Present Time- Northern Paris- The Musketeers old apartments- Afternoon. **

Porthos managed to ease the tiny pup to sleep, cradling her fragile little body in his arms whilst Athos heated the broth and Aramis began cutting d’Artagnan free of his shirt to get to his torso.

Once the filthy fabric had been cut away, Aramis jumped off his stool in a flurry of curses.

Porthos quickly set the pup down in a small basket lined with pillows and blankets to keep her warm and safe, before surging over to where Athos and Aramis were stood over the Gascon.

Anger erupted through Porthos’ body like an active volcano at the sight of d’Artagnan. His hips hidden beneath layers of fingerprint bruises, countless scars and bruises thrown across his chest, strangulation marks around his neck (which had so far been concealed by a grey scruffy scarf), hundreds of cuts criss crossing his arms and three hideously scarred and angry bite marks on his throat.

Beside Athos, Aramis began crying softly as he took the lads wrist. “Self inflicted.” He whispered, dropping back into his stool with slumped and defeated shoulders.

Athos’ lip quivered and Porthos stormed out of the apartment, slamming the door with the loudest of bangs.

Baby Anaïs awoke and began to cry.

Two hours later, Porthos thundered back into the apartment, a black eye, torn knuckles and stinking of alcohol.

He froze however, when his eyes rested on the scene before him.

Although his head was light from drink and his eyes unfocused and bloodshot, he could still make out Aramis’ frame slumped against d'Artagnan's bed, his hands clasped around the Gascon's and Athos’ frame positioned at the couch at the end of the bed, with Anaïs curled over his chest. Snoring quietly.

He bit his lip.

_This was all their fault._

 

***


	9. Chapter 9

**Continued...**

It was about late evening when d'Artagnan's eyes finally opened. He felt as if every fiber in his body had been laced with lead and was now pinning him down into some unknown, but inexplicably comfortable, bed. Dizzy images of his past and present flashed before his sleepy eyes, and for once d'Artagnan felt very weak. 

Shifting slightly, her tried to turn his head from the flickering light of a candle beside him, the back of his eyes throbbing miserably as he failed to do so.

He moaned quietly.

A hand touched his arm, a soft and familiar gasp rushing past his ears. He couldn't help but flinch as Aramis' hand touched his face.

"d'Artagnan?" He asked quietly, the uneasy trepidation in his voice made d'Artagnan squirm slightly.

_Why was he here?_

Still confused and a little on edge, the Gascon merely wet his lips as a reply before croaking out the only word that seemed to matter. "Anaïs?"

And just like that a thousand tiny little shards of his memory shattered around him...

_The Accusation._

_The Betrayal._

_The Hurt._

_The Child._

_All of it._

Snapping his mind into action, d'Artagnan's hand snagged Aramis' wrist with bruising force and met the Sharpshooter's shocked gaze.

"Where is she?" He demanded, no tone of anger in his voice...which only made Aramis' coil of guilt tighten around his stomach.

"She's with Porthos...d-down the hall." He gulped out, dreading what the boy was about to do.

Pushing Aramis away, his touch sending pulsing shots of pain across his bite marks, d'Artagnan made to rise.

Then fell.

He landed with a grunt, his mind whirring at an impossible rate as Aramis attempted to help him.

He wanted his comfort...but...he couldn't- no, shouldn't...

Seeing the confusion on the Gascon's face, Aramis gently took d'Artagnan's hands in his own.

"I'll fetch her for you," He said gently, and then on a lighter note added, "I bet she's worn Porthos out, last time I checked she was pulling at his beard."

But d'Artagnan wasn't listening, instead his eyes were flickering about the room, his ears pricked and posture on the defensive.

Just as Aramis reached the door d'Artagnan cleared his throat. "Why did you bring me here?" He asked quietly, looking extremely perplexed.

"Because you deserve so much...so much better d'Artagnan...I-We-" Aramis didn't finish, instead he left the room urgently, trying desperately to wipe his tears away, leaving d'Artagnan sat on his bed in a stunned silence.

When Aramis entered the room Porthos, Athos and Anaïs (their pup's name, he smiled weakly), the pair were on their feet in an instant, both fearing the worst.

"He's awake, he wants Anaïs." Aramis blubbered, collapsing onto Porthos who hugged his brother back fiercely.

"Anaïs." Athos repeated, his heart swelling as he recalled himself having mentioned how much he liked the name after his mother as it meant 'grace'.

Picking up the child in question from her new crib, Aramis made his way quickly back to d'Artagnan's room.

The pup squealed with delight when she saw her Oman, her little body wriggling in the Spaniard's arms.

d'Artagnan took her gratefully and held her close, smiling, for the first time, as she touched his nose and giggled.

"You gave her new clothes." d'Artagnan noted, frowning at the men before him, his body still ready to make a run for it.

"It was the least we could do..." Athos said, causing d'Artagnan's stomach to do that funny little flip thing, before his bond fought back making him wince.

So instead the boy turned his head to smile at baby Anaïs who was gently tapping her palm against his cheek and garbling a load of nonsense. She looked healthier than d'Artagnan had ever seen her; her eyes brighter, cheeks rosy and fuller and her smile wider than usual, finally reaching her eyes. 

Athos noticed the conflicted look crossing d'Artagnan's face and frowned. "Is something wrong?"

Two dark eyes flicked up towards him and the older man instantly regretted asking. "Wrong?" He questioned in feigned carelessness. "Why would there be anything wrong, Athos?"

The icy, cold bitterness made the three men wince and the pup curled into her Omans chest, desperately seeking comfort. Noting his pup's distress when she released a tiny whine and nuzzled d'Artagnan's chest, the Gascon lowered his voice with a sigh. "So what do we do now?"

Silence greeted him in an unfriendly embrace.

"I see." He muttered.

***

 

 

 

 

 

 


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!  
> Sorry this is such a short chapter! Longer ones are coming up, don't you worry!  
> Hope you all enjoy!  
> All my love,  
> Calon.  
> xxx

** The Following Morning. **

d'Artagnan moved stiffly towards the sleeping pup at the end of his bed. He couldn't remember when he had fallen asleep, but what he could remember was the paralyzing nightmares that seemed to ingrain themselves on his conscious mind and settle there for the long run. Sighing softly he gazed down at his sleeping child and stroked her cheek softly with two fingers.

_He'd made his decision._

Rising slowly, d'Artagnan gathered his things which had been placed around the room in a homely way. Just as he'd finished getting ready, the three inseparable Alpha's entered, all looking stunned at the Gascon's clear intent on leaving.

"What are you doing?" Aramis gasped, moving towards d'Artagnan who appeared to be holding himself up on will power alone.

"Leaving." d'Artagnan replied incredulously and raised an eyebrow at the man.

"You can't, d'Art." Porthos snapped harshly, his  protective alpha instincts kicking in. "You're not healed."

d'Artagnan sneered at him. "Right and you're going to help, right? Make everything better?"

The pair recoiled instantly, but Athos stood strong.

He knew that this wasn't d'Artagnan talking, no, instead it was a hurt Omega who'd been abused beyond comprehension, who was attempting to keep himself and his pup alive despite having no wish to live, with his mating bond screaming at him to run away from those who hurt him most and his survival instincts trying desperately to save him from the three Alpha's before him. He also realized that they didn't deserve the Gascon's forgiveness and that they could not fix this with a few home comforts and the occasional expression of love. No, d'Artagnan _needed_ to stay away from them, find himself a safe haven and, although it broke his heart, a kind and caring Alpha who would  _never_ hurt him like they had.

It was his duty to let him go, irrespective of how it destroyed him and his brothers.

Reaching out, he gently touched d'Artagnan's arm. "Let me pay for your lodgings, somewhere away from the Court and where Anaïs will be safe?" He offered, watching closely as d'Artagnan's bond slackened its tense hold and d'Artagnan nodded in a stunned daze at the Alpha's offer.

"But...Anais will stay here." d'Artagnan said quietly, refusing to meet their eyes. "I can't keep her safe...you...you can..."

The room was deadly silent, the only sound to be heard was the quiet tears brimming in the Gascon's eyes.

He would suffer for this but...it was the right thing to do...although he hated to admit it, these men were the best option for his pup. They could offer her warmth, food, an education, protection and opportunities d'Artagnan could never dream of offering her.

"Okay." Athos whispered, swallowing thickly around the lump in his throat as his other brothers still found themselves either lost for words or crying softly behind him.

"You'll come and visit her though?" Aramis gulped hopefully.

"No." d'Artagnan replied. "You tell her I perished and that..." He paused to steady his trembling voice. "That I loved her."

***

 

 

 


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Helloooo!  
> Just wanted to say a HUGE thank you to everyone who has been so supportive! I really hope you enjoy this chapter! A little warning though, it's a bit emotional! I'll be updating again shortly!  
> All my love,  
> Calon.  
> xxx

** 12 Hours Later. **

Athos opened the door to d'Artagnan's lodgings with shaking hands. Having paid for the luxury accommodation himself, taking his time to ensure the Gascon had everything he needed, the room was now ready and complete. The door swung open gracefully and Athos entered, shortly followed by an extremely pale and withdraw d'Artagnan who had yet to utter a single word.

Briskly marching across the room whilst the Gascon awkwardly went to appreciate the mahogany chest decorated with cravings of flowers and leaves, Athos opened the drawn curtains bathing the room in light. Athos smiled softly, it was beautiful; matching furniture, a king size bed, gorgeous fur rugs, fruit bowls filled to the brim, bottles of unopened wine waiting temptingly at the table and piles of clean sheets and extra blankets to suffice the winter months.

Following the soft shafts of light beaming from the window, Athos' eyes fell on d'Artagnan who was still stood uncomfortably by the chest and avoiding eye contact, the light almost placing the Omega on a spotlight. Athos' breath hitched. Having been washed, fed, his hair cut slightly and dressed in clean fresh clothes the Gascon now looked entirely different. If Athos considered the room to be perfect then d'Artagnan was some for of God.

Wetting his lips and quickly looking away before d'Artagnan noticed his behavior, Athos fought against his own instincts to not walk over to d'Artagnan and so instead peered out of the window again. "Aramis has sent for a Doctor to visit you over the next few months and Porthos had organized for a food delivery to arrive here each week-and since Porthos organized it, I would assume you'd never run out- oh, and I've sorted out your clothing."

At the lack of response, Athos frowned and turned around to face the boy.

His heart seized in his chest when he found him.

d'Artagnan was stood, still, by the chest, tears dribbling down his cheeks and a dagger held in his left hand pressed firmly against his right wrist, his intentions plain to see.

"d'Artagnan." Athos breathed, his whole body rigid as he tried to inch closer without startling him.

_What the hell was going on?_

"d'Artagnan...put the knife down..." He said softly, his voice caught on a whisper as his heart thumped painfully in his chest. "Please...d'Artagnan."

The Gascon scrunched his face up in frustration, tears flowing more quickly now. " _You don't understand._ " He forced through gritted teeth, his whole frame shaking. "She's the _only_ reason I'm alive! And now she's gone! What do I have left?! I have nobody! _Nobody_! What do I do, Athos? Answer me!" He practically screamed as he readied the blade.

Without a second thought, Athos lunged forward, slamming himself and d'Artagnan on the floor, knocking the knife aside. Gripping the Gascon brutally tightly, Athos dragged the boy to his chest and backed them up against the back wall, ignoring his now bloodied nose and d'Artagnan's hoarse screams as he trashed in his arms.

"Bastard!" He cried as he weakly tried to hit Athos. "You can't make the decision! It's my life! Let me be! Please, Athos! Athos!" He let out a frustrated cry. "I hate you! I hate you!"

"Good." Athos said, loosening his grip as d'Artagnan turned to sob against his shoulder, his bond pushed back due to his hysterical condition, "Hate me all you want, d'Artagnan. Wish me dead, but just don't _ever_ hate yourself. _Please_."

d'Artagnan coughed and spluttered, his hands curling around Athos' shirt as the man lifted him off the floor and lay his shaking frame on the bed. The older musketeer froze when the boy's hand gripped his, his bleary eyes locking on Athos' blue one's. "Don't go." He whispered weakly, fresh tears spilling down his cheeks. "Don't let them take me away." He whimpered. "Don't let them get me!"

Athos settled next to d'Artagnan immediately, concern and confusion both flaring up as he noted what the boy had said. " I won't let them, d'Artagnan." He murmured reassuringly as he ran his fingers through the Gascon's hair ad d'Artagnan curled into him. "I've got you."

***

Athos woke to a tidal wave of guilt. A type of guilt he had only experienced once before. It sloshed around his stomach and sent butterflies surging up through his chest as he saw d'Artagnan's sleeping face painted with trails of dried salty tears. Gently he brushed his soft hair out of his eyes and allowed himself a selfish moment of indulgence. His heart ached painfully when the Gascon began to stir, his heart feeling suddenly all to heavy in his chest and heat racing up his neck and to his cheeks. Athos sighed and gave up fighting the sensation.

_He was in love._

_Dangerously so._

But he didn't deserve it, but God he wanted it.

d'Artagnan's eyes blinked softly open, his body instantly growing rigid to which Athos responded to by immediately moving away and opening his arms to let the Gascon out.

Recoiling like a spring, d'Artagnan withdrew to sit on the edge of the bed and gazed down at his wrists again.

"Hey." Athos said softly, unable to watch d'Artagnan tumble back into how he was yesterday, and reached out to touch his shoulder. When d'Artagnan hissed in pain and jerked away, Athos winced. "You're hurt." He stated gently and moved to sit beside d'Artagnan then frowned. "It's your bond isn't it?"

d'Artagnan nodded slowly.

"Oh, d'Artagnan." Athos moaned heartbrokenly, burying his head in his hands. "I'm so sorry, I never-I-I don't even have an excuse-I can't-" Tears began dripping down Athos' cheeks, his chest heaving raggedly as the past few days caught up with him. "I-Oh God-everything that's happened-we were so wrong, so, so wrong-so burnt, so pessimistic-couldn't see the best thing we'd ever had-couldn't appreciate-betrayed-d'Art-agnan-I-never meant-always lose the one's I love- my own fault- I- d'Artag-d'Artag-nan-" He hiccuped, gulping and spluttering like a toddler as his whole body shuddered and shook the bed.

He hadn't expected a reaction from d'Artagnan at all, and when to bony arms wrapped around him, his whole body jumped. "Don't." A weak voice whispered. "Don't cry."

Athos shook his head and balled his fists up. "No! d'Artagnan-I-I should have done something-I-I failed you-not worthy-drinking-and Thomas-I-can't lose you again-I-" The man began hyperventilating, his body losing the battle against his grief.

"Athos! Look at me!" d'Artagnan snapped before slapping the man across the face to break Athos out of his hysterics. Athos gasped at the sensation and turned to face the Gascon, his lower lip trembling weakly. "I forgive you!"

"What!?" Athos choked, suddenly feeling rather faint.

"I forgive you, you oaf!" d'Artagnan exploded suddenly. "That doesn't mean we're friends. It means you can stop beating yourself up and take care of my- _our_ daughter without being a total pathetic drunk!"

Dropping to his knees, Athos pressed his head against d'Artagnan's outstretched hands. "Thank you-d'Artagnan-I'll-I'll make it-up-I promise-" Athos sobbed again and d'Artagnan rolled his eyes and smiled softly, placing a hand on Athos' head and gently smoothing his hair, his bond unusually quiet.

"Hush now." He said in feigned short patience causing Athos to smile up at him with a watery and slightly dopey grin. "You're an extremely ugly crier anyway."

***

 

 


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey Guys!  
> Just a quick chapter to fill you in!  
> All my love,  
> Calon.  
> xxx

** Later That Afternoon. **

d'Artagnan sat silently as Athos chatted nonchalantly about his duties that evening, the Gascon forcing himself to keep up the facade that everything was okay and that the Alpha before him had been forgiven. For those painfully long hours following their rousing, d'Artagnan had smothered Athos with fake smiles and reassurances, carefully hiding the fact he was only desperately waiting for the man to leave. Finally after having force fed himself the food presented before him, the notion was breached.

"The King has requested our presence this evening also...will you be okay whilst we're gone?" Athos questioned, his brows furrowed.

d'Artagnan merely shrugged. "Of course." He replied as he fought to keep the food settled in his stomach. "But-"

"Anais will be with a well respected nanny." Athos explained, not failing to notice how d'Artagnan shifted uncomfortably and sucked in his cheeks with distaste at the thought of his pup being left with a stranger, irrespective of how 'well respected' she may be. "Or," Athos added hopefully, "You could be with her?"

d'Artagnan rose from his chair sharply, ignoring his wounds (once again) as they screamed at him. "No." He replied firmly and tried to compose himself. "I-I can't-no."

Athos rose cautiously, concern flooding his features. "Hey, hey, okay." He soothed as d'Artagnan slumped back into his seat and stared dejectedly at the wall. "I could always stay if you-"

"No." d'Artagnan countered instantly. Athos blinked at him in stunned silence and d'Artagnan felt the need to explain his urgency. "No, the King would remove you from the regiment."

Athos sighed heavily before nodding stiffly. d'Artagnan watching the musketeer war between duty and care, he knew what he'd chose before he'd even spoke. "Okay then." He smiled and reached for the Gascons hand who fought the shudder the contact gave him. "I'll be back before you know it."

_Lies. Athos always chooses duty. Never love or care. Duty._

d'Artagnan offer a smile which felt false even to him. "Okay." He whispered quietly and watched as Athos gathered his things, swore another round of promises of his return again and then promptly left.

d'Artagnan could breathe again.

Shaking his head and pushing his plate of food aside he went to open his window to rid the room of the stench of Alpha again. Life in Paris was in full swing by now, and d'Artagnan watched in a trance like state as people bustled beneath his window. Somewhere in the crowds he made out Athos' sultry figure, the expressive and relaxed man who'd been in his room a few moments ago was now withdrawn and cold; his own little mask.

Moving to his bags, d'Artagnan searched desperately for his dagger. When it was no where to be found he let out an angry cry and kicked the table so hard the leg gave out. "Damn you, Athos!" He hissed, gritting his teeth and stomping back to the window.

_Maybe he could jump?_

_Was is far enough?_

The unknowns outweighed that that he knew, and as it could guarantee his death, d'Artagnan searched his thoughts for other means of doing so.

d'Artagnan sighed and pushed away from the window and reached for the unopened bottles of wine. Smiling in a daze the Gascon swigged at the first bottle before the contents were gone and his world was tilting on axis. Then staggering across the room and to his bed he broke the bottle on his nightstand and clawed at the shards. Through hazy vision he chose the sharpest piece and positioned it over his wrist once more.

He smiled sadly and his mind flicked to his baby pup.

And as he made to cut though his precious veins, a knock sounded at the door.

***

 

 


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AAAAAAAGHHHHHHHHHHHHHRRRRRRRRRR!  
> It's been so long! (Please don't kill me!) I'm so so so so so sooooooooooooo (endless o's) sorry for the long delay. And by long I mean like...WTF ARE YOU DEAD?...long. SO apologies on that front. I'll hopefully be updating again more frequently unless I get admitted again so fingers crossed!!! Anyway...I hope you all enjoy!  
> All my love,  
> Calon.  
> xxx

**Continued...**

d'Artagnan gazed blearily at the door.

When the knock sounded again he blinked once more.

Was it Athos again?

Numbly rising to his feet and deftly hiding the shard of glass inside the feathery pillow cases aligning the bed, d'Artagnan made his way to the door and closed his fingers around the handle.

A familiar scent slammed into him like a wall.

Rayard.

Before he could even grapple at the door, the large Alpha had pushed inside the room and was now leering over the Omega with a feral grin. "Well, if it isn't my little omega whore!" Rayard grinned, brutally wrapping one hand around the Gascons neck whilst the other brushed the boy's hair sickeningly. "I though yer'd gotten away for a while then...but yer good ol' musketeer friends ain't too good at keepin' their mouths shut..." The man paused and smiled at d'Artagnan before whispering, "or hiring nannies..."

d'Aratgnan's eyes went wide with horror as the realization of the situation slammed into him, weakly he began wriggling against the mans grasp as the hand tightened around his throat and his vision began to darken. "But now I've got yer both to myself...and I think I deserve a lil' treat, right?"

 _No, no, no,_ d'Artagnan's mind screamed at him.

"Let's go, kid." Rayard hissed and d'Artagnan's world went blank.

***

 

 The courtroom, as per usual, was bustling with life. And Athos, Aramis and Porthos, as per usual, were all stood at their various designated stations around the grand room whilst the King, as per usual, pounced around between his guests.

Porthos sighed, a soft smile playing on his lips as he recalled the way baby Anais had successfully managed to rip out almost half of Aramis' mustache. Part of him longed to enjoy the fact his pup was now with him, that he could now witness her grow and bloom into a beautiful young woman and be a part of her life- something he hadn't had as a child. Yet the other part of him yearned for d'Artagnan to be with them too. Athos had explained to them what had happened and they'd all decided that his sudden 'forgiveness' was likely a ruse and hence had sent Constance to check on him hourly at the apartment.

Guilt was not something Porthos du Vallon could deal with well. And he most definitely was not dealing well with the guilt of what had happened to hi-the Omega.

Injustice was another thing Porthos could not deal with very well. Having witness the brute force of injustice whilst living in the courts, it was something that hit close to the heart. And knowing what had happened to d'Artagnan based on his gender, did not settle well with him. 

Sighing heavily once more and running his hand over his face, Porthos failed to notice as a red faced Constance dashed into the courtroom. Panting heavily and her muscles aching from the lengthy run from d'Artagnan's apartments to the Palace, Constance gripped Athos' arm unstably.

"Con-" Athos began, his eyebrows knotting together in concern.

"He's not there." She gasped. "d'Artagnan-he-I don't know- he's gone-the-and the place-stank of alpha-I-" She broke off suddenly panting raggedly.

Athos paled substantially as thick cold dread split across his stomach and gestured for Aramis to fetch Porthos.

"Breathe, Constance." He ordered in an illusion of calm as he settled her on a chair much to the distaste of one of the nobles attending the Kings weekly court extravaganza. "Tell me exactly what happened."

Having regained some composure Constance was able to explain what she had discovered and that the apartment possessed an unfamiliar and unfriendly scent of Alpha. Sharing a wordless glance with the others Athos thanked Constance and made his way to the door without a second thought. As soon as his hand grazed the doorknob the King let out a deafening shriek.

"Musketeer!" He snapped from nearly the other side of court. "What do you think you're doing? Abandoning your post?"

"There is a matter-" Athos began hurriedly, his fingers aching to open the door.

"Enough!" The King snorted. "Return to your post immediately, it is your duty to protect me and you shall for fill it!"

Since the King was clearly in no imminent danger and most definitely didn't need almost half the Garrison to stand present while he chatted to his courtiers, Athos puffed out his chest. "I'm afraid I cannot, Your Majesty." 

Silence reigned over the court like never before. The King desperately floundered for words and Treville, from the wine stand, looked ready to murder Athos.

"Musketeer," The King seethed his voice little more than a hushed gasp. "You will return to your post and resume your duty this instant...or-or you will hand over your Pauldron."

Whispers flooded around the court before dying once more.

"And that goes for your friends too!" The King added, eyeing both Porthos and Aramis challengingly. 

Sucking in a deep, cleansing breath Athos turned to face the King dead in they eye as he unbuckled his Pauldron with one hand.

He dropped it on the floor softly and with the utmost  fashion as his brothers did the same, and gave  a noble bow.

"As you wish, Sire." He murmured before taking his final leave.

***

 

 


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning: Mentions of rape, brothels, threats and some coarse language...nothing too graphic mind you. However should you feel uncomfortable at all when reading this please let me know and I can make any changes necessary. Thank you and please enjoy!  
> xxx

Athos, Aramis and Porthos stormed into d’Artagnan’s apartments at break neck speed, weapons drawn, chests heaving and eyes blazing with an unconstrained desire to kill anyone who got in their way.

The scent hit them instantly; an Alpha male, unrecognizable and clearly not friendly. All it took was one glance around the room to notice the struggle that most likely taken place here mere hours earlier. Porthos growled menacingly and stalked across the room searching for any hint as to this Alpha’s whereabouts and that of d’Artagnan.

“Smells like the court.” Porthos grunted and turned to face his seething brothers. “Cheap alcohol, sex and opium, to be more specific.”

Athos cringed inwardly and flexed his knuckles. “We need to get back to the Garrison, check on Anais and get weapons. I know where they are.”

Nodding tersely Porthos and Aramis turned on their heels and Athos closed the door behind them, his blood simmering in his veins.

They arrived at the Garrison before the other musketeers had returned from the palace. Swiftly the trio entered the hidden weapons store near Treville’s rooms. Gathering the necessary weapons, the three then made their way to their own apartments to check on Anais.

Aramis froze as he caught sight of their front door swung wide open. “Mierda!”

Athos turned in surprise at the Spaniard only to pause as he too noticed the door. Surging forwards the three men stumbled inside.

The same pungent scent that had haunted d’Artagnan’s apartments greeted them as they entered and the three Alpha’s paled. The only thing worse than the smell was the deathly silence that accompanied it.

“They took her.” Aramis whispered brokenly, tears brimming in his eyes. “How could they take them?” He gritted out frustratedly slamming his fist against the wall.

Porthos gently took Aramis’ hands before he did any damage to himself and tried to soothe him with false reassurances.

With his upper lip twitching Athos cursed under his breath and shared a murderous glance with his brothers. Without uttering a word the trio slammed the door behind them and headed to one of the Courts most notorious brothels.

They were going to ‘ _La Chambre des Jeux’._

 

***

d’Artagnan awoke to an all too familiar throbbing sensation in his head, and a cold pool of water settled around where he lay on the cold, hard floor. Shivering violently and gazing up through the darkness d’Artagnan shook even harder as a wave of nausea overtook him.

Leering over him with a feral grin was Rayard, the man’s face illuminated by a lantern he held to his face.

“Wakey, wakey!” He chuckled grimly, closing his fist around d’Artagnan’s shirt and hauling him up. “Gotta treat waiting for you!”

The familiar smell of sex, cheap wine, opium and sweat surrounded d’Artagnan in an overwhelming wave, causing his throat to close chokingly. “No, no, no…” He choked desperately his chest heaving as he tried to fight Rayard.

The Alpha chuckled wildly and continued to drag d’Artagnan through the packed main brothel area and through to the private rooms located toward the back of the building.

The room, as usual was dimly lit and filled with an array of burly alphas all sporting drinks and feral looks. Velvet red chaises were scattered throughout the room, all surrounding a pair of rope shackles hanging from the ceiling.

d’Artagnan’s stomach dropped and his whole world tilted on axis.

Turning desperately to Rayard, d’Artagnan began kicking and screaming against the Alpha’s hold, pleading to let him go.  Rayard only smiled, relinquishing in the Omega’s distress as murmured in his ear and two other Alphas helped tie him to the ropes, groping as they went. “Struggle and your pup will end up at the bottom of the Seine.”

And with those cold words, d’Artagnan was still.

Frozen in time as he was jeered at, stripped and beaten. Frozen in time as he was humiliated and unable to _even_ scream as his back was whipped and his innocence was ripped from him, yet again.

Frozen as his whole world caved in on him again.

_Frozen._

****


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning: Some upsetting scenarios, nothing too awful but please read with care.  
> All my love,  
> Calon.  
> xxx

Athos, Aramis and Porthos had never felt so disgusted in their lives. Strolling stiffly into the Courts main brothel the three men clenched their fists tightly.

The stench hit them before the sound, and it had Athos almost gagging. Setting his jaw firmly and swallowing thickly, the eldest musketeer forced himself through the swaying crowds of drunken or drugged Alphas grappling at various Omegas in skimpy outfits that highlighted their emaciated and abused frames.

One female Beta worker stumbled into them. “What can I get you, gentlemen?” She questioned, her body swaying little and her eyes distant.

“We’re looking for an Omega.” Athos managed with the upmost effective demonstration of self-control. “A specific Omega; dark hair, eyes…”

“Oh!” The Beta grinned. “The Gascony slut! Yeah, yeah, you missed the show. They’ve just finished up... They’re in the back room; Rayard might give ya a private show…”

Athos growled under his breath and slammed her out of the way. With their anger rolling for them in waves the trio made their way towards the ‘back room.’

Nothing could have prepared them for what they saw.

The earlier Alpha’s had cleared out leaving just Rayard and d’Artagnan in the room, the boy having been lowered to the ground and a blanket wrapped around him, Anais in his arms.

The large Alpha had allowed the pair sometime together so Anais could feed. Although the pup was old enough to eat solid food, she’d stubbornly refused to allow Rayards hired wet nurse to care for her, after hours of trying to feed the child it had been decided that d’Artagnan was her best option. By keeping the child fit, Rayard could continue to use her as blackmail for d’Artagnan to perform.

At the sound of the three Alphas barging in both men froze.

“What is this?” Rayard snapped from where he was sat on the velvet chaise, watching with a sickly expression as d’Artagnan struggled to stay upright on his knees and support his pup, tears streaming down his face.

D’Artagnan gasped at the sight of the three Alphas, his heart lurching with relief as the three approached them.

“The show’s over.” Rayard dismissed a slight uneasiness in his voice.

Athos and Porthos spared Aramis a glance as he went to stand between Rayard and d’Artagnan.

“Nah,” Porthos grinned ferally, “The shows just begun.”

***

Aramis quickly lead d’Artagnan from the brothel, having thrown hi cloak over him the pair managed to escape the vicinity undetected as Athos and Porthos…took care of Rayard…

Once they’d return to the apartments, Aramis gently settled d’Artagnan on the bed and placed Anais in her makeshift crib.

He then found his medical kit and for the first time since their rescue mission actually looked at d’Artagnan.

The young Omegas body was trembling violently, tears streaking down his cheeks and his eyes distant.

“Hey, hey,” Aramis soothed, dropping to his knees before d’Artagnan and taking his trembling hands in his own. “Look at me, Querida. Talk to me.”

D’Artagnan opened and closed his mouth helplessly, nothing more than a whine escaping from the back of his throat. Aramis made a soothing noise and carefully eased off his cloak, minding that d’Artagnan’s lower half was covered since the Omega seemed extremely jittery. Aramis cursed at the sight of the Omega’s back, wincing as d’Artagnan pulled away at the sound of a raised voice.

“Hey, it’s okay, it’s okay.” Aramis soothed hurriedly, stroking the boy’s hair. “You’re with me, you’re safe now.”

“Safe.” D’Artagnan repeated with a frown.

“Yes, Queirda. You’re safe now.” Aramis repeated, watching the Gascon as the information sunk in and his body relaxed a little.

“Safe.” He murmured before sinking back into silence.

Carefully, Aramis began tending to his wounds, stitching the worst slashes on his back and then rubbing them with ointment before running him a bath, all the while talking idly to the Omega.

Easing d’Artagnan into the bath, he began massaging the boys scalp with sweet smelling soaps, pretending not to notice the small pool of blood in the water. Having briefly examined the damaged done and impressively held himself together, Aramis had noted that no permanent physical damaged had been afflicted on the Gascon. So it didn't really concern him...on the medical front that is...

Gently he helped d’Artagnan out of the bath, dried him and dug up some breeches and a nightshirt. He then heated some herbal tea and handed it to the Gascon as he lay in bed.

Aramis winced as the Omega’s hands shook violently and his eyes fluttered about the room anxiously. “You’re not wearing your Pauldron.” He whispered, trying to relax himself.

“No,” Aramis nodded, “we resigned.”

d’Artagnan who had been gently sipping his tea almost choked. “What?”

“When we realized that you’d been taken,” Aramis said softly, chewing his lip, “we left the King…and he didn’t take to it well.” Aramis chuckled, looking up in shock to find d’Artagnan smiling at him with tears in his eyes. “What is it, Querida?” He asked urgently.

“It’s nothing…just; you sacrificed your Pauldron’s for me…which was completely stupid…but…you….” D’Artagnan trailed off and Aramis rubbed his thumb over the Gascon’s knuckles as disbelief cracked in his voice. “You did it for _me_.”

“d’Artagnan, we would go through hell and back for you, I know you don’t believe that and you have no reason to, what we did to you was probably worse than what those bastards did to you…I can’t…d’Artagnan…let us prove ourselves to you, if not as your mates then as your friends…please…”

d’Artagnan looked over to the sleeping figure of Anais and then back to the Alpha who’s eyes conveyed nothing more than sweet, serene honesty. “I-” He paused briefly, “I think I can do that…”

***


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter will be up tomorrow!  
> Enjoy!  
> xxx

By midnight Athos and Porthos had returned to their apartments with bloodied knuckles and contented spirits.

The pair smiled as they saw d’Artagnan peacefully sleeping in the bed with Aramis sitting up in bed beside him with a book, his spare hand still holding the Omega’s hand.

Removing himself from d’Artagnan’s side, Aramis approached the pair. “Is he dead?” He asked bluntly.

Porthos nodded. “Not sure at which point he died, but he’s pretty dead now.”

Aramis shook his head with a sad smile. “I never thought I’d wish for someone to be dead…”

“How’s d’Artagnan?” Athos asked as he and Porthos cleaned their hands and changed their clothes.

“He’s…he’s good actually.” Aramis smiled. “Obviously not okay, but…he’s going to give us a chance.”

Both Alphas paused and stared at him in utter shock.

“Pardon?” Athos asked, his face an open book to the disbelief he was feeling.

Aramis smiled. “Yeah, he…he opened up a little and said he’d… give us a chance.”

Porthos beamed at the pair. “You’re serious?”

Aramis nodded again and smiled exasperatedly at the pair.

“It’s not going to be easy.” Athos added suddenly, switching on his business-like tone.

“No,” Aramis agreed. “But he’s worth it.”

***

It took months before d’Artagnan first openly sought comfort from the three Alphas. Weeks upon weeks before had consisted of constant gentle touches and comfort from the three ex-musketeers. Their entire worlds revolving around d’Artagnan and their pup, and them alone.

Anais was coming along in leaps and bounds, her garbled words becoming more and more like words and her first semi steps had been recently  achieved –with Athos still swearing to this day that he didn’t cry…that much.

d’Artagnan had kept mainly to himself at the start, but as time went on he began loosening up a little; smiling occasionally at Porthos’ terrible puns and allowing soft laughs at Aramis’ dramatic stories, and even on rare occasions added his own sarcastic comments and witty jokes which sounded like music to everyone’s ears.

However it was late evening, sometime during mid-winter when d’Artagnan first reached out to them. Having headed to bed early after feeding Anais and settling her down, d’Artagnan was gripped by paralyzing nightmares.

Within his sleeping mind he was entrapped in a huge velvet red room, surrounded by multiple 'Rayard’s', all moving towards him with that same menacing gleam in their eyes.

Having heard the Omega’s distress, Athos had quickly left the others to their card game and went to awaken the Gascon. His heart shifted in his chest as his eyes settled on the boy, tossing and turning in bed, sweat dribbling down his forehead as he cried out for help.

He moved cautiously over to the bed and gently shook the boy. “d’Artagnan, you’re safe, you’re with me. It’s just a dream.” He soothed softly, risking stroking the boy’s hair softly. “It’s just a dream.”

Sudden d’Artagnan’s eyes shot opened and he sat upright abruptly, panting for air.

“Hey,” Athos smiled, pushing the Omega’s hair behind his ear and searching his eyes to see if he was properly lucid.

d’Artagnan just stared at him for a few moments before he sudden burst into tears, throwing himself into Athos who was sitting in the center of the bed in a shocked stupor. Curling his fingers in Athos’ shirt, the Gascon sobbed against him, his bond rewarding him with a warm, soothing sensation as the Alpha wrapped his arms around him and held him close. “Don’t go.” D’Artagnan hiccuped, burying his face in the crook of Athos’ neck. “Please don’t go.”

“I won’t.” Athos promised hastily, smiling as Aramis and Porthos entered, their concern over why Athos had taken so long bringing out their curiosity.

The two Alphas’ merely stood there for a few moments before they earnestly joined them on the bed, hesitantly wrapping their arms around the both of them.

It was uncomfortable and hot and d’Artagnan’s arm had long ago fallen to sleep...however, d’Artagnan had never once in his life, felt more at _home_.

***


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey Guys!  
> Sorry I disappeared for a couple of days! I broke my glasses on Sunday night and have been as blind as a bat for the last couple of days! Hahaha! I’ll have a brand new pair by Thursday though and I’ll try my best to make do with taped up specs and one good lens! So, uh….a little heads up for this chapter…it’s kinda my fist smut…Oh God, if you could see how much I’m blushing now…*awkward laughter*… oh God…I mean I can read it without batting an eyelid…writing it however…dear lord….  
> So I’m sorry if it’s not too good…you can always just skip this chapter if it’s not your cup of tea! You have no idea how uncomfortable I am right now! Hahaha! I’m literally blushing…I’m not that innocent I swear! But…uh…when I was writing it I guess I wrote it so, d’Art has three holes, I guess. Like a woman, a vagina, anus and *more awkward laughter* not like a woman…a dick... It’s only now that I realize he’s basically a hermaphrodite, but imagining him going through Anais’ birth any other way was beyond my poor twisted mind…So, yeah…I just wanted to clear that up since I wasn’t sure on how to integrate it into the story…but mehhhh….  
> So, anyway…on a lighter note…  
> HAPPY BIRTHDAY ELENDUEN! THIS AWKWARD SMUT IS ALL FOR YOU! XD  
> Hahaha! I hope you all enjoy…(if at all possible...)  
> All my love, (and Birthday wishes)  
> Calon.  
> xxx

Another set of months blew by in the breeze, and before they knew it the snow covered streets of Paris were now sizzling and bathing in the summer’s heat.

Sighing languidly, Athos smiled down at the Gascon curled up against his chest.

Gradually and after many months of awkward and guilty consciousness and scenarios, the four men had finally gained some form of normality and life was, in Athos’ words, perfect. Of course not entirely, d’Artagnan still flinched from their touches occasionally and would often wake up with crippling nightmares which left him panting for air for hours after. But things, for the first time in a long time, were beginning to fit back into place.

“Athos,” d’Artagnan whispered timidly, his fingers running up and down the Alphas chest.

“Yes?” Athos replied, frowning slightly. “Is something wrong?”

“No, no,” d’Artagnan quickly responded, tilting his head up to face the older man. “It’s just…” He bit his lip and his cheeks flushed a little.

“What?” Athos asked with a smile.

“My…um, heat’s starting tomorrow…I-I was wondering…if you’d….” d’Artagnan broke off again, his cheeks burning with embarrassment now. His past heats with the Alphas had been spent alone in his rooms with a kind Beta woman called Maria, who’d provided him with food, water and clothes throughout his painfully long six day heat. Usually they only lasted half that time, if not less, however due to his abuse at the Court his heats had become erratic and delayed by countless potions and drugs provided by Rayard. So in essence, a near years’ worth of heats hit into him in the coming months after his rescue and d’Artagnan wasn’t overly keen on spending his next alone…

Athos just stared at the Omega silently, his mouth hung open slightly and face and open book to his shock. d’Artagnan squirmed awkwardly and refused to meet his eyes. “d’Artagnan…” the Alpha breathed suddenly and d’Artagnan’s eyes snapped up. Athos’ pupils were blow wide and his cheeks flushed. “d’Artagnan it would be my-our pleasure, if…if it’s really what you want-I-I don’t want you to feel forced, I-”

d’Artagnan couldn’t help but smile slightly at the man’s eagerness. “Thank you.” He mumbled into his chest as he nuzzled back down.

***

Athos, Aramis and Porthos took their time laying everything out. A tray of food and wine had been prepped, along with sets of clean sheets and spare mattresses on the floor. Anais had been sent to stay with her Aunt Constance, of whom she was very fond of, as the afternoon before d’Artagnan had fallen asleep as his body replenished itself for the days ahead.

“Do you think he’ll like it?” Aramis asked as they finished up.

Athos opened his mouth to respond only to have a voice behind them get there first.

“It’s perfect, Aramis.” D’Artagnan whispered from where he was standing timidly in the doorway, his fingers nervously playing with his nightshirt sleeves.

The Alpha’s could tell he was already in heat. The scent was intoxicating, _he_ was intoxicating.

They all shifted and regained a little composure as d’Artagnan neared, still looking utterly lost. “You’re sure you’re ready, d’Art?” Porthos asked. “We can stop at any point, remember that.”

D’Artagnan swallowed thickly and nodded, the warm sensation in his stomach becoming a little stronger, sending cascades of shivers up his spine.

“You’re in control of this, Querida.” Aramis added, smiling softly as d’Artagnan sat against the bed.

“I know.” d’Artagnan managed. “I’m ready. I’m ready to be yours again, to be a family…”

Athos smiled softly and leant in for the first kiss. Caught off guard, d’Artagnan froze for a second before quickly melting under the all too familiar lips against his own. They were soft, full, insistent…gentle. And he was hot, hot all over, his cheeks flushed in a pleasant fashion and Athos pushed him gently down against the bed as his tongue pushed between his lips and, _oh, oh_...

d’Artagnan let out a little gasped, that wasn’t forced or faked for the first time, but a genuine pleased gasp. He’d almost forgotten what it felt like.

Athos’ lips gently moved from his mouth, trailing greedily along his jaw, his stubble leaving a small white trail of abraded skin along his chin and throat. The Gascon arched a little and then the Alpha was sucking a mark there, his hands loosening his shirt and probing down his chest, catching on his nipples ever so slightly. From where he was standing, Aramis let out a little moan, and d’Artagnan opened his half closed eyes to see Porthos wrap his arms around him from behind as his breeches were loosened.

Then Athos’ face was above his again, searching his eyes. “What do you need?” He asked on a heady breath and d’Artagnan squirmed as Athos’ pulsing cock head encircled his entrance.

d’Artagnan swallowed, stroking his hand over Athos’ jaw. “I want _you_.” He answered honestly, grinding down ever so slightly and causing Athos’ to shut his eyes in an attempt to control himself.

Slowly, his arms positioned on either side of d’Artagnan’s head, cradling it there as their faces remained inches apart, the Alpha moved in, his cock dragging against the soft lining on d’Artagnan’s opening. Athos’ eyes locked with d’Artagnan as he began gently moving in and out, ensuring his Omega was comfortable. d’Artagnan moaned softly and kissed Athos’ gently, nudging him to pick up the pace. Athos grunted a little and began moving his hips a little quicker, relishing in the feelings threatening to drown him.

The bed dipped a little and Porthos moved in to kiss d’Artagnan and Athos moved to sit back on his haunches while continuing to move in and out of d’Artagnan.

Without thinking, d’Artagnan’s hands went up to hold Porthos’ face in position causing Athos to release a slightly protective growl to which the other pair smiled at and Porthos deepened the kiss just to irk him.

The larger musketeer’s heart began swelling as the Gascon beneath him began moaning into his mouth and wriggled a little. Athos’ steady and caring pace, slowly driving him to the brink. Porthos’ head moved down his body, his tongue dragging down d’Artagnan’s chest and stopping to circle his nipples as his hand stroked over his slight breasts. The Omega couldn’t help but moan loudly as he gazed up at Athos who was clearly close to reaching his climax and was leaning back a little against Aramis who was suckling his throat.

Athos’ face screwed up and his hips faltered, a hot liquid filling d’Artagnan’s belly and dragging him to orgasm with the stutter of Athos’ cock. A cry of pure release escaping his swollen lips. d’Artagnan felt a heat spread across his collar bone and a bond snapped back into place between him and the man before him. Gazing down in a sleepy haze, d’Artagnan saw his bite mark heal over and appear like new. Gaping he stared up at Athos who was wearing a similar expression. “My God.” The former Comte burst, his eyes filling with tears as he moved down to kiss d’Artagnan once again, who was now smiling back as a warmth that had been absent for a long time flooded back into his bones.

The Omega let out a watery laugh and held the Alpha’s face in his hands before turning to the other stunned pair. His heat had refilled his needs and d’Artagnan gazed at Porthos who was still by his side.

As if reading his mind, Porthos all but shoved Athos off the bed and stroked d’Artagnan’s face. “You’re ready?” He asked in a strained voice as d’Artagnan ground against him softly.

“Please.” d’Artagnan managed as Porthos rolled him on top of him. “I want you. Need you.”

Porthos groaned a little at that, and d’Artagnan gently eased himself down on the man’s cock, having to pause to compose himself before he began moving up and down his shaft.

Porthos gripped d’Artagnan’s hips hungrily and stared up at him with a lust filled gaze as he began to bounce a little harder, Aramis coming behind him to offer support and to reach around and take him into his hand as he worked.

The Gascon whimpered softly, his brows furrowing in concentration as he angled himself at _that_ angle and suddenly, _oh, oh_ …

d’Artagnan’s insides contracted suddenly, his legs quivering and locking themselves against Porthos’ thighs as a second climax seized him, a hot and vulnerable sensation squeezing at his stomach and spreading right to the tips of his fingers as he spent again, collapsing against Porthos’ chest as the Alpha too emptied himself inside him.

Panting heavily and grinning, d’Artagnan rested temporarily against the large Alpha, totally spent and sated. Rolling sideways, d’Artagnan curled against his Alpha as his bond mark healed once more and they clicked back together, a link forming between the pair that seemed deeper than before. Porthos let out a little bubble of laughter and another rush of heat settled within the Omega’s body.

However, due to his heat, his needs were not yet met and Porthos gently moved from his side, Aramis moving between his legs.

“Aramis.” d’Artagnan breathed out, his hands reaching for the man’s shoulders as he sank into him, his swollen lips brushing against his.

With an unnerving composure and deadly accuracy Aramis began thrusting into the pliant Omega, his lips brushing against his ear, mumbling words that d’Artagnan didn’t understand but longed to as they sounded close to a lullaby or...maybe a prayer? Of soft lull of words which eased d’Artagnan as his heart filled with something untouchable yet so precious and welcoming. Throwing his head back, d’Artagnan’s body shivered without his permission, his third orgasm rippling through every blood vessel and muscle in his body. Aramis grunted against his ear in Spanish once more, and it certainly wasn’t a prayer, as he filled d’Artagnan with his own pleasure. The final bond clicking into place as the bond mark healed and a flush of light connected him with all three Alphas before him.

Blinking owlishly and wantonly returning the kisses pressed against his lips, d’Artagnan was settled down against his Alphas, their hands, legs…any limbs entangled desperately together as sleep beckoned them and they sailed away into dark bliss.

Together.

And as _one._

***


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Mentions of miscarriage.  
> All my love,   
> Calon.  
> xxx  
> (Still no glasses!)

d’Artagnan gazed sadly into the mirror, rubbing his stomach slightly. Anais was babbling happily in her crib and giggling at her own nonsensical words. He was pregnant.

With trembling hands he brushed his hair out of his eyes and turned his body to view it from the side, examining the slight mound forming deep within his stomach.

It was at this point that his three Alpha’s returned from the market.

“Is everything okay?” Athos questioned as the three lay out their baskets and began packing the food away. Athos’ money allowing them to buy an array of delights to treat both their Omega and pup.

d’Artagnan bit his lip and moved to sit on the bed, taking Porthos’ hand and indicating for the others to join him.

The Gascon looked conflicted and Porthos gently ran his thumb of his knuckles soothingly, as Aramis wrapped and arm around his shoulders. “I saw Lemay…a routine check-up…after…everything that happened…and he…he told-I’m pregnant!” He burst, his hand clenching Porthos’ in fear of their reaction. Before he could even muster the courage to look up at them, however, he was buried beneath three bodies, the trio all either crying, nearly crying or grinning like psychopaths.

“That’s brilliant news, d’Art!” Athos beamed, once they untangled themselves of the Omega, taking his hand in his and crouching before him.

d’Artagnan stared back at him, a soft smile playing on his lips as Aramis continued to babble in near hysterical broken sentences beside him. “You think so?”

“Of course.” The older musketeer smiled, taking d’Artagnan’s face in his hands and rubbing his thumbs beneath his eyes. “How are you feeling?”

d’Artagnan looked away and sighed weakly. “Scared.” He admitted, his hands touching his stomach subconsciously as his brows furrowed sadly. “When Anais…was born…there was another pup…” Tears began prickling in his eyes. “An alpha boy… Mathieu…he was so small…he-he didn’t make it…the midwife said he died when the bond was severed and-” A sob broke from his lips. “They wouldn’t let me bury him…he wasn’t-wasn’t Christened…they….I-I’m so sorry…I didn’t want to tell you-I-I couldn’t…it hurts…still hurts…” By now the Gascon was borderline hysterical, his whole body shaking as Porthos wrapped his arms around him and pulled him close, Aramis desperately trying to soothe him, ignoring the painful clenching of his gut as he recalled how this was all their fzult, yet again.

“d’Artagnan…” Athos whispered heartbrokenly, taking the trembling boys hadns again. “I’m so-so sorry…what we did-”Athos paused and sucked in a breath as an attempt to calm himself. “We took so much from you…killed our own pup…I-”

“No!” d’Artagnan burst, pulling back from his Alphas, their pain flooding into him through the bond. “You didn’t know! How could you have known?”

“We should’ve, d’Art!” Porthos cried, his voice wobbling dangerously as tears filled his eyes.

“We shouldn’t have hurt you…it was our duty to love and protect you…” Aramis muttered, gazing down at himself in self-disgust. “We betrayed you, d’Artagnan.”

The Gascon stared at the three distraught Alpha’s before him. “Then make it right now.” He whispered. “I know-you can’t bring Mathieu back…but you can offer our new pups a better start at life… prove yourselves as Alphan’s to them…”

Teary eyes peered up at him, a glint of hope in their eyes.

“Pups?” Porthos asked, frowning slightly.

d’Artagnan allowed himself a slight smile and sucking in a deep breath prepared himself for the inevitable ‘half smothering to death by trio of highly emotional ex-Musketeers’ which would ensue shortly.

“Three to be exact.”

 ***


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise Chapter Update! XD  
> And I know what you're thinking; Oh my God, she's alive! And yes, yes I am. Well...only just! XD  
> The dreaded exam period has taken its toll and I've been sucked into this life of meaningless hours consisting staring blankly at textbooks and sobbing over the reams of quotes, dates and definitions I was supposed to have learnt years ago. Hence I abandoned you temporarily in order to fight this beast known as GCSE examinations...that said I have allowed myself the precious time I should have spent revising Pythagoras' theorem watching The Musketeers Season 3- which I both love and hate in equal proportions (but I'll discuss all that some other time). BUT THAT DID NOT HELP IN ANY WAY SHAPE OR FORM! Watch these episodes tucked away in your bedrooms, with layers of blankets (unless its absolutely scorching-like it is here, then don't because you will undoubtedly die from heatstroke), food provisions to last you a month, tissues, and fan fictions. Because you will feel PHYSICAL pain watching them. Trust me...the pain is real.  
> Anyway...here's a little chapter in thanks to all those who have left kudos, comments and subscribed to my work. It's absolutely breathtaking to know that you enjoy my work and it means the absolute world to me. 200+ kudos is astounding and I couldn't thank you enough ❤  
> So, enough said, sit back, relax and pray for my poor soul!  
> I'll be back soon!  
> All my love,  
> Calon.  
> xxx

Porthos entered his apartment with a parchment held tightly in his grip. The tension from his body leaking out the second his eyes fell on d’Artagnan playing with a very bouncy Anais.

“Hey,” The Gascon smiled weakly as the alpha entered. “Is everything okay?”

Porthos shrugged. “We’ve been called to court.” Nervously glancing around the room he continued. “All of us.”  


d’Artagnan rose his eyebrows at that and picked up little Anais, balancing the little toddler on his hip. “All?”

“All.” Porthos clarified as Aramis and Athos joined them, both picking up on the slight tension in the room.

“What’s going on?” Athos hollered, smiling as d’Artagnan passed him Anais to hold, the toddler giggling happily in her Alphan’s arms.

“We’ve all been invited to the palace.” d’Artagnan explained, chewing his lip nervously, Aramis frowned at this and instantly moved round to squeeze his shoulder comfortingly to relieve both physical muscle tension and emotional stress.

Athos appeared concerned but said nothing.

“We-” Porthos paused, “should probably leave…”

The four gazed at each other anxiously before nodding in agreement. Athos would organize something with Constance for Anais and meet the others at Court. It was decided.

***

Court was more boring than d’Artagnan had remembered. Finely dressed noble men continued to swagger around the pristine halls, their pompous political ideas nearly as amusing as their feathered hats and upturned shoes as they conversed all subject all the way from their recent adventures with some of the Queen’s courtiers to the recent famines outside of Paris: all of which discussed with the most monotonous and lack-lustre voices Paris had to offer.

Porthos remained plastered to the Omega’s side, his hand never too far from his and his threatening manner directed at any other Beta or Alpha who gazed upon his mate. Athos stalked quietly behind them and Aramis lead them. In perfect unison. D’Artagnan had to stifle a grin.

The royal and monstrous doors into the Throne room opened almost immediately as they reached them, revealing the glamourous room that held both the King and Queen of France. The four walked slowly towards the front of the room where they each bowed humbly.

“Now, now,” The Queen admonished with a gentle smile, “I cannot have my _four_ favourite musketeers looking so unnerved to be in our presence.” She sent a brief flickering glance to her husband who mumbled something under his breath and nodded. Her Majesty sighed and gazed back to the four before her, who seemed to have developed a military like stance around their Omega, their bodies surrounding him like a human shield.

“We mean you no harm.” She clarified softly, watching the tension slowly leak out of their bodies. “Instead we _both_ wanted to offer you an apology for the way we behaved.”

Athos frowned a little at Her Majesty’s usage of the word ‘we’ but let it slide in these circumstances.

“In light of what caused your sudden withdrawal from Court, we have realized the rashness in our behaviour and wanted to grant you a sum of money and your positions as His Majesty’s Musketeers.” She smiled, raising her hand when they looked ready to object. “We also grant you eight months of leave from Paris and an estate in closer to the Palace within the city before you may take up your professions again, and you will accept these offers as it is now, an official order. We also feel like a congratulations is in order.” She indicated to d’Artagnan. “We hope to meet the trio and their older sister before another year slips by.”

D’Artagnan smiled a little from within his cocoon of Alphas, his mind racing a little at the possibility that the Queen knows what had happened to him…

Aramis squeezed his shoulder once again, diffusing some of the tension.

“Thank you your Majesty’s.” Athos announced formally, a slight smile toying at his lips. “Your offers are most generous and we will consider each one carefully.”

The Queen smiled triumphantly at the Alphas acceptance and looked expectantly at her husband who nodded with a slight smile, his pride easing its hold around him slightly. King Louis cleared his throat. “Yes, of course, it is the least we can do.”

And with that they were dismissed from caught and able to breathe for the first time in months.

***


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another quick chapter for you guys! Not many more exams left now, so I should be back in business before too long! XD  
> Just a quick heads up for mentions of Prepartum Depression ~ A real and difficult issue many mother's face each year, and if you feel like you or someone you know may be displaying some of these symptoms or any other concerning symptoms it is super duper important you tell someone. If anything troubles or upsets you, leave me a little comment explaining why and I'll do everything in my power to help you.  
> But anyway on a brighter not,  
> Please Comment, leave Kudos and Subscribe!  
> All my love,  
> Calon.  
> xxx

The carriage swayed from side to side, jostling every so often as the old wheels caught on a rouge pebble or drop in the road before them. From where Aramis was sitting, with d’Artagnan laid between his legs, his head resting on the Alpha’s shoulder, he barely noticed the movement around them. Instead his eyes and focus remained solely on his Omega, his fingers brushing through d’Artagnan’s dark locks tenderly, lulling the Gascon into a state of sedation.

Over recent weeks, Aramis had noticed a change in d’Artagnan. Finding him seemingly lost in himself on various occasions, transitioning back into the state he had arrived to them in. The other’s didn’t seem to have noticed anything going on, but Aramis had a gut feeling that there was something strange going on beneath the surface, something he couldn’t quite yet reach.

D’Artagnan shifted in his lover’s arms, his eyes closing softly, surrendering beneath Aramis’ soothing hands. Aramis hummed, sparing a glance towards a sleeping Anais, kept securely in her small woven cot, fastened to the frame of the carriage as they travelled towards Pinion.

Although Athos hated the idea of returning to his home again, he’d ensured that the West side of his estate had been re-built to house the five of them for the next few months. The re-built wedge of the estate stood out harshly against the burnt crisp of the rest of the Manor, and Athos made a note to look into further restoration. His mind drifted to holidays in the summer and mid-winter spent on the estate. Playing in the rivers nearby during the Summer, teaching Anais to swim when she grew old enough to, snuggling by the fire in the Winter, playing in the snow, building Anais’ first snow man…

Athos smiled to himself, and Porthos nudged him with a grin. “Come back to me, love.” Porthos chuckled. “Stop daydreaming like a bloody maid.”

Athos grunted in the manliest way he could manage and pushed Porthos back teasingly. But the larger man merely caught his shoulder and kissed his cheek cheekily. “I’m only jealous.” He smiled, making Athos’ heart melt a little in his chest, causing his cheeks to redden. It was now getting hard to concentrate on the road ahead. “Was it a nice daydream?”

Athos’ lip quirked a little and he nodded minutely. “About our future; coming out here all together…”

Porthos hummed happily, turning back to face the road ahead. “We’ll teach our pups about their Uncle Thomas too, ‘Thos.” He said softly, his hand reaching out to find Athos’ hand on the reigns.

Athos sucked in a sudden breath, an iron fist closing around his throat at the sudden swell of gratefulness that flushed through him at his mate’s words. The understanding the others showed towards him still managed to surprise him.

“Thank you.” He gasped softly, and Porthos merely smiled.

 

***

** 5 Months Later, La Fère Mansion. **

“d’Artagnan?” Aramis called, shaking his damp hair and sent huge droplets of water spraying against the wallpapered walls of the Mansion. Having spent the afternoon messing around in the lake with little Anais, who having learnt to walk and hold slightly confusing conversations, had taken to like a duck to water. Literally.

When d’Artagnan had retired after the afternoon heat began to take his toll on him, Aramis had followed shortly behind, to make sure the Omega was comfortable and cool. Recently, d’Artagnan had begun to suffer the consequences of a triplet pregnancy. Trouble sleeping, frequent urination, back pain, headaches, muscle pain, mood swings, frequent crying over small things and different eating habits. Though not all of these Aramis believed were natural.

Countless times the Alpha had noticed d’Artagnan failing to eat all together, sometimes going nights without sleeping for at least more than half an hour. He’d also noticed d’Artagnan withdrawing himself from situations, sometimes discovering him crying when he thought the others didn’t realize. At first he merely cast it aside as the average pregnancy mood swings caused by raging hormones…but after a while, even Aramis began to question his own judgements.

“d’Art?” He called, nearly slipping against the wooden floor which appeared after the carpet ended. “You in here?”

Turning the corner into their master bedroom, Aramis’ eyes fell upon a figure huddled up against the end of the bed.

“d’Artagnan!” Aramis cried, dropping to his knees before the Omega who, as it now became apparent, was crying softly. Brushing the hair out of his eyes, and hooking his thumb under the Gascon’s chin to pull his face up to see his reddened eyes, Aramis stared confusedly at his Mate. “What is it, Querida? Are you hurt?”

D’Artagnan shook his head minutely and bit his lip, trying to turn away. Aramis stopped him immediately and cooed imploringly for him to talk to him.

 ”I-I don’t know what’s-what’s happening t-t-to me, Aramis…” He burst, hiccupping between sobs, and Aramis immediately wrapped his arms around the shuddering Omega before him.

“What do you mean, Querida?” He asked gently, helping the Gascon onto the bed taking his hands and crouching before him. “Please, Mi Sol, tell me.” He moaned, as d’Artagnan tried to turn away. “Don’t bear this alone.”

“I can’t-can’t explain it…I-I” He turned his head up to the ceiling helplessly. “I feel nothing, Aramis! Nothing! I don’t-the children I carry-I can’t feel anything-I-I…just feel guilty-helpless…like nothing I do will be good enough-I’m scared….sacred that I’ll fail-that I’m not-not w-worthy of this-of them…” He gestured towards his swollen stomach and gazed at Aramis desperately. “I’m so sorry-I…This-this is meant to be-to be the best moments of our lives together-but I can’t-nothing feels good anymore Aramis, nothing! I’m floating behind everyone…I can’t…everything keeps moving but I’m just standing still-un-unable to even simulate normality…I-Please don’t hate me.”

Aramis felt his heart shatter at d’Artagnan’s last words, a plea that reached his very should.

“Oh, no, no, no, Cariño! I don’t hate you! I could never hate you!” He cried, taking d’Artagnan’s face in his hands. “What’s happening to you is not unheard of. Are you listening? d’Artagnan there is nothing wrong with you, at all. You have been through unimaginable amount of strain and pressure over the past few years, and what you’re experience right now is something _we can_ cope with. Something _we will_ cope with. It just…hurts me that you kept this from us for so long, Mi Cielo.”

d’Artagnan moaned a little and leant into Aramis’ hand as another wave of sobs wracked his frame. “I didn’t want you- didn’t want you to think I was a cold hearted…or bad Oman…I-I didn’t want you to leave…”

Aramis growled and cut d’Artagnan short. “We will _never_ abandon you, Charles d’Artagnan. You are _our_ Omega. Our _life_. Our _home_. Our _Soul_. We will _never_ leave you.”

d’Artagnan stared at the Sharpshooter in shock at his forceful words.

“Now,” Aramis continued a little more softly. “I am going to close these blinds, get you in snuggled under the covers and find you something to eat. Then I am going to find something to help you sleep; which is optional, however I think you need it. Then I will write Athos and Porthos a brief note explaining what has happened, before climbing into bed with you to protect you until you’ve rested enough. Because _you_ matter too, d’Artagnan, the pups do too, but _you_ still matter. Am I understood?”

d’Artagnan nodded a little numbly, allowing Aramis to strip him of his clothes and dress him in his soft white night shirt, before gently laying him down and pulling the covers over him. The Gascon watched sleepily as the Spaniard disappeared before returning with a plate of food, feeling slightly drowsy due to a mixture of both exhaustion from crying and relief from finally telling someone how he felt.

The Omega picked lazily at the food until almost all of it was gone, and then Aramis kissed his head and lay down beside him, pulling his head onto his chest. A cup was brought to his lips shortly after and d’Artagnan drank it greedily, recognizing the diluted taste of Opium hidden in the beverage.

Aramis began humming a soft and lilting Spanish song, running his hand up and down the Gascon’s back, whose eyes had begun closing already.

Yawning softly, d’Artagnan nuzzled down into the Spaniard’s chest on habit alone, sleep beginning to drag him down with the silence and secretiveness alike that of a trained assassin.

And Aramis said a prayer.

***

 


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit of a hectic day today! So sorry if this chapter's a little short. I just wanted to clarify something the wonderful Elenduen had mentioned about the general feelings people showed towards those suffering with mental illness during this century. But I will go into further detail about this later on, don't worry! XD  
> All my love,  
> Calon.  
> xxx

Athos peered down at the Gascon in his arms who continued to stare emptily at the wall opposite from them. Aramis, Porthos and Anais had all set out for an afternoon in the sun, with Athos choosing to stay behind and watch over d’Artagnan in the cool shade of their bedroom.

“Tell me what you’re thinking, Mon cœur.” Athos cooed, brushing the boy’s hair from his face and placing a gentle kiss near his ear. “Let me in.”

d’Artagnan sighed softly at the contact and rubbed his face against his hand, on which his head was resting on. “I don’t…I don’t understand why…”

“Why what, Ma Moité?” He encouraged, burying his nose in the Omega’s sweet smelling hair.

d’Artagnan bit his lip. “Why you didn’t send me away…to a-uh…convent…Why do you…Why are you willing to-to deal with all of… _this_.” Admittedly, d’Artagnan wasn’t exactly sure what all ‘ _this_ ’ was, but Athos seemed to understand as he took a sharp intake of breath.

“d’Artagnan…” Athos whispered brokenly. “d’Artagnan you aren’t insane. You’re not a danger. You’re hurting d’Artagnan, and not from a physical wound, not something we can bandage up or stitch. Something on a level no one can comprehend other than the person themselves and others who have been through similar situations.” Athos took a few seconds to let the information sink in. “Which is why I think you should speak to Aramis.”

d’Artagnan looked up at the Alpha in confusion and Athos continued, rubbing his hand against the Gascon’s swollen stomach. “After Savoy, Aramis suffered more than just physical wounds. When-when we found him, he-he wasn’t really there, he was almost lost- trapped in his own mind. For weeks if not months after he was so distant and far from us…We had no idea what to do…” Athos’ voice trembled, recalling how helpless he had felt, watching Aramis disappear before him. d’Artagnan gently touched his arm and nestled into his Alpha’s hold, evoking a small sad smile from the older man. “Every so often, however, Aramis would return to Savoy in his mind. A loud noise, blood or even the slightest change in tension would trigger some form of flashback. He’d start trembling, gasping for breath, his heart thundering in his chest…then he’d cry…sob and call out for those he’d lost, helplessly trapped in a living nightmare…It-It took a long time for him to recover.” Athos paused again, steadying himself. “When we found you in that alley-I-I recognized what was happening…” He allowed a mirthless laugh to escape his lips. “Some physicians called it ‘hysteria’… or even witchcraft…But…”Athos felt the anger brewing inside him, “It’s not. It’s-It’s as real and genuine as a damned bullet wound. You can’t lock someone away with no hope of being cured when all they need is time and care…I-” He clenched his fists angrily, withdrawing from being close to d’Artagnan.

“Athos…” The Gascon said gently, rolling over to reach the man in question. “I understand, I know-I know the frustration you’re feeling…just don’t-don’t be upset…please, ‘Thos.”

Athos turned to face the Omega slowly. “I would never send you away, d’Artagnan, I don’t care what the people say, you are _not_ possessed or hysterical or insane. You are hurt, _not_ broken, _not_ ruined. Hurt. _And healing_. And I- _we_ will be here with you every step of the way, we will be beside you throughout your healing process. You will not be alone in this, d’Artagnan.”

The Gascon gazed up with tearful eyes at the Alpha, surprised and warmed to the core by his forceful words of comfort. “Don’t _ever_ doubt that.” The Alpha added, placing a kiss on the Gascon’s cheek.

Tears dribbled down the Gascons cheeks and he nuzzled down into Athos’ arms. “Thank you." He whispered softly. "I shouldn't have doubted you."

***


	22. Chapter 22

** 5 Hours Later, La Ferè Mansion. **

d’Artagnan awoke a few hours later, Athos’ body moulded around him from behind, the man’s soft, warm breath humming against the back of his neck.

“You awake?” Athos grumbled, nuzzling into the boy’s hair. d’Artagnan chuckled slightly and nodded, relishing in the feeling of his Alpha’s warmth around him. “You need to get up?” Athos asked cautiously, and d’Artagnan frowned in confusion at the Alpha’s tense body language…until…oh…

d’Artagnan blushed furiously as he noticed Athos’…uh…member…pressed up against his back. Athos laughed awkwardly. “Yeah…” He mumbled. “Sorry.”

The Gascon smiled uncomfortably, his mind turning back to the fact he had in fact not partaken in any _‘activites’_ of late, mainly because of his discomfort with his own bloated body and the fact he no longer felt worthy or interested in doing so.

But right now, with Athos clearly wanting and reluctant to leave, something ignited deep within the Omega’s stomach, and Athos moaned as the scent of arousal burst from the Gascon.

“d’Aratgnan.” He gasped, gripping the sheets tightly, willing himself to not simply kiss the Omega without consent. “Are you…”

He couldn’t finish, as d’Artagnan’s warm lips met his, ripping Athos’ last thread of control.

Growling a little, Athos returned the kiss feverently and rolled over, mindful of the Omega’s bump, and pushed up the Gascon’s legs apart, pushing himself inside the pliant Omega with a tenderness he didn’t know he possessed. Both men released sudden groans, and Athos leant forwards to brush his lips against d’Artagnan’s as he began to move gently within him.

Athos’ heart was thundering wildly in his chest, swept away in waves of both Alpha instincts and utter, total love for the man before him. Staring intently into the eyes of his precious mate, Athos kissed every moan and gasp of pleasure from his lips. His soul purpose, soul goal to protect and nurture his mate. He had failed already. He was not going to fail again.

d’Artagnan’s eyes fluttered closed, the pressure from his heavy pups adding more stimulation into the mix as he neared completion. His head rolled back against the pillow as Athos trailed kisses down his flexing throat.

“So beautiful.” Athos breathed against the Gascon’s skin, his cock swelling within the pregnant Omega as the bond snapped into place, a warm wave of pleasure surging from their bond marks.

d’Artagnan began trembling beneath the Alpha, his face tense as he neared his climax. “Athos.” He gasped suddenly, his fingers digging into the Alpha’s skin as his orgasm over took him. “Athos!”

***

** 2 Weeks Later, La Ferè Mansion. **

Anais glared at Porthos, sending Aramis into fits of peeling laughter.

“You no funny.” The little pup stated though garbled words, folding her chubby arms in front of her and pouting disapprovingly. Having spent the morning swimming, Anais had attempted to dry off beside the river, ignoring her Oman’s insistence that she dries herself off with a towel and not rely entirely on the sun to do so. However, as Porthos and Aramis had emerged from half-heartedly trying to drown each other, the larger and burlier man had managed to drench the pup unintentionally as he’d returned to the bank and tossed his wet jacket nearby.

Porthos cooed a gentle apology to his pup, shifting down the bank to where Anais was crouched. He softly touched the back of her head, brushing his fingers against her curly damp hair. “C’mere.” He called, opening his arms for the little toddler.

After a slight moment of hesitation the little pup broke into a smile and after a few garbled words, crawled up onto her Alphan’s lap.

Porthos chuckled and wrapped a towel around the pup, placing a kiss on top of her head as she giggled.

Aramis came to sit beside the Gascon who was propped up against a tree further up the bank, immediately placing his hand on his stomach. “How are you?”

“Okay.” d’Artagnan replied honestly with a soft smile. Over the last few weeks, each day, Aramis and d’Artagnan would spend a good few hours simply talking about how they felt. With Aramis either offering advice or simply listening to the Gascon’s fears and hopes without an ounce of judgement. His fears of being an unworthy Oman, his fears of being unattractive and unwanted after and during his pregnancy, the fear that despite being dead that Rayard would come back to haunt him, that his pups would perish, that he’d be left behind once more…

To begin with d’Artagnan had been extremely embarrassed to admit his flaws and fears. But with simple kind touches and comforting words d’Artagnan felt able to open up and express his true feelings without having to censor very word. It was a release that he’d never experienced before. Literal weights would lift from his body and he’d be left drowsy and freed from emotional distress.

Gradually he began to come out of his shell, and although they were still early days, d’Artagnan was finally beginning to feel as he was before. Given he still struggled some days and was filled with self doubt and hate. The love and care that was demonstrated towards him each and every day was overwhelming.

Under Porthos’ watchful eye, the Gascon had begun eating more and taking care of his own wellbeing and his pups. For the first time in months, he was beginning to relish in the feeling of having more meat on his bones, even admitting to liking the way his body felt while he carried his pups. Which Porthos, of course, continued to agree with flattering the Gascon on his figure rather outwardly at certain occasions.

Anais was also beginning to show more interest in her Oman’s pregnancy. Regularly choosing to prod and poke the Omega’s stomach, demanding Aramis explain how babies are born and whether she will have brothers or sister. She also began to show some concern for her Oman, sometimes refusing to leave d’Artagnan’s side for the entire day. While at first it worried the Gascon, he later decided that it was a brilliant time to interact with his pup, who he hadn’t spent as much time with since returning to his Alphas. While he didn’t mind that the others wanted to spend time with his pup, he sometimes felt left out due to his pregnancy slowing him down and sometimes stopping him from being able to enjoy partaking in outdoor activities. This also signified a change in d’Artagnan. Over the recent months d’Artagnan had lost his sense of fire and lust for battle, but recently some of those traits had been returned. With d’Artagnan often becoming frustrated and impatient with not being able to ride comfortably or take part in sword practice. Which was encouraging on all levels.

_Although, who would have known how easily all this progress could have been taken away?_

***


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eeek! Sorry there's been a bit of a gap between this update and the last one, I'm still trying to work out what to do with my life following my exams, so you'll have to bare with me! XD  
> This chapter's a little tension filled and weird but eh, the fluff will ensue...hopefully...  
> On a lighter note, it's my birthday tomorrow! XD  
> So, please comment, subscribe, leave kudos and enjoy!  
> All my love,  
> Calon.  
> xxx

“Don’t be long.” Athos said cautiously, squeezing d’Artagnan’s hand tightly. “Half an hour, no more. I will-“

“Send a search party.” d’Artagnan chimed in softly, brushing his thumbs over the Alpha’s knuckles. “I know.”

Athos’ lips quirked slightly at that and he gently placed a kiss on the Omega’s head. “Just-don’t… be gone long.”

D’Artagnan nodded gently. “I won’t.”

***

The Gascon sighed as he reached Pinon’s market, the warm sun beating down against his back as he moved between the bright stalls. Unlike Paris’ Market Square, Pinon’s Market was bright and teeming with life, not deafening and gloomy like the Markets he’d spent some of his darkest times in; bartering and begging for the smallest morsels of food.

Moving towards the vegetable and crop produce stalls d’Artagnan dutifully brought the items Aramis had sent him out to get. The old woman at the stall smiled kindly at him and placed her hand gently on his stomach.

“When is the pup due?” She questioned honest kindness in her eyes.

“Not long.” d’Artagnan replied. “And the sooner the _pups_ are out the better.” He corrected, grinning at the way the old woman almost shrieked in delight.

“That is wonderful news!” She beamed before offering him a small hamper of free produce for the ‘precious pups’ he carried.

Swiftly, the Gascon began making his way back to La Ferè, knowing that he had already been gone longer than anticipated which, in no doubt, was probably knocking years off Athos’ life. However as he made his way from the Market place and around the back of a rather large barn close by, d’Artagnan’s wrist was suddenly snagged by a small bony hand and dragged inside the barn.

A sliver blade glinted before the Gascon’s eyes, his throat instantly seizing as the cold sharp mental slid precariously close to his delicate neck.

His eyes adjusted to the dim light, shafts of dust falling before him and shrouding the small ginger woman staring up at him with nothing other than pure hatred, a madness in her eyes that d’Artagnan could not deny.

There was no doubt that the Gascon could easily overthrow the petite woman however, due to the fact he was able to feel the barrel of a gun pressed harshly against his stomach, all he could do was simply stare back at her in utter terror.

“Hello, little Gascon.” She smiled her eyes devoid of any emotion. “I believe you have something I want.”

There was a pause and all d’Artagnan could hear was his laboured breathing before she tilted her head and her lips spread into a twisted grin. “And I know exactly how I’m going to get it from you, Charles d’Artagnan.”

***

“Athos!” Porthos groaned, rubbing his eyes roughly. “Stop pacing!”

The man in question looked up suddenly, his eyes bright with anger. “He’s been gone for two hours, Porthos.” He growled stalking towards the larger man who had risen from his chair in response. “What if he’s lost? Hmm? What if he’s hurt?”

“Sit down.” Porthos growled, Athos having moved to be standing inches from the larger man’s face, his chest puffed in anger as Alpha hormones raced through his body demanding he defend his Omega despite staring at his fellow mate and brother in the face. “Don’t take your anger out on me.”

Aramis entered and released a low growl. “Stop it. Both of you.” He moved forwards, coming between the two men. “You’re behaving like two pre-pubescent Alpha’s.” He admonished sternly. “Stop acting so selfishly and start helping me to find d’Artagnan.”

Porthos and Athos dropped their heads in shame and nodded carefully.

“Now,” Aramis stated calmly, “He can’t have gone-”

A loud trash as the front door of the Mansion flew open cut off Aramis’ train of speech and the three men paused in sudden shock.

“Monsieur’s!” An unfamiliar voice chimed, the scent of Beta, earth and something all three of them viewed as ‘old age’ came rushing through the halls. “Monsieur’s!”  


Athos, Aramis and Porthos all stormed along the corridor and towards the front doors to find an old woman panting in the porch.

“Monsieur’s!” She gasped, almost collapsing into Aramis’ arms.

“Easy.” The marksman murmured, easing the woman into a chair Porthos had dutifully supplied. “Deep breaths, tell me what happened.”

Athos fidgeted uneasily, wanting nothing more than to simply ignore this old woman and storm towards the village in search of the Gascon.

The Beta woman smiled helplessly at the dashing men before her and focused on catching her breath. “There-there’s an Omega-a…a young lad, pregnant,” She swallowed thickly. “Your mate so I’m told…He- a woman has him-she claims he has been cursed by a witch, that he is cursed with hysteria and melancholia as a punishment for being a common street whore.” The woman winced at her own words and clutched Aramis forearm tightly. “They’re going to drown him in the lake on charges of being possessed!”

Aramis paled suddenly and swayed a little on his feet. “Good God.” He gasped, bringing a trembling hand to his mouth. “This is all my fault.”

“No.” Porthos ground out furiously, snatching Aramis by the arm, already making way towards the lake which was found just outside of the village. Athos had already asked the elderly woman to take care of Anais and to alert Gerard, the gardener, to fetch a physician. The ex-Lieutenant was now marching ahead of them and towards their horses.

Mounting swiftly the three tried to settle their thundering hearts, their imaginations swirling out of control as they tried not to imagine the hell d’Artagnan was undergoing, as they rode towards the twisted lake.

***


	24. Chapter 24

d’Artagnan could barely hear his own thoughts as he was pushed through the baying crowds and towards an old rickety chair on the bank of the silent lake.

Distantly he could make out the voice in his head begging him to just breathe with some form of normality, instead of panting and whining between breaths as the people he hadn’t even met screamed for his death.

The ginger woman who had pinned him against the wall of the barn and had then proceeded to alert the rest of the town to his apparent ‘possession’ and ‘foul trade’ back in Paris, not to mention the fact he’d supposedly ‘used magic to seduce three Alpha’s one which being the Comte himself’, was now leading the procession towards the lake.

“Drown the cursed whore!” The crowds jeered and the Gascon was roughly forced into the chair, his hands ripped from where they had been clutching at his stomach, in a feeble attempt to protect his pups, and were tied roughly behind his back and to the structure of the chair.

The ginger haired woman turned from the jeering crowds, of whom merely moments ago she was antagonizing to outright murder the Gascon on sight, and bent before d’Artagnan with a leering grin. Her wrinkled fingers snaked precariously along his shirt sleeves, revealing the scars that covered his past. She husked under her breath.

“What a foul, foul human you are.” She smirked, snatching at his chin and tilting his head back. “You’ll be happy once this is over.”

d’Artagnan could only tremble before her, a slight whimper escaping his lips in fear for his pups, and his pups alone. Hell, he didn’t care what became of him…but his pups…his pups he did care for. More than he could possibly put into words.

The ginger woman spun away from him and signalled for two rather burly Alpha’s who gripped either side of the chair and began hauling him towards the water. d’Artagnan tried desperately to shake free from his suffocating bonds but he couldn’t.

“Don’t do this.” The Gascon pleaded, gazing helplessly towards the crowds. “Please…”

But the chair was dowsed beneath the frozen water, d’Artagnan tied firmly to it as bubbles erupted around him and his lungs suddenly realized there was no air. Distantly he can remember seeing a priest, moments earlier, holding up a cross as the chair was tipped forwards and the Omega was sent tumbling into the deep waters.

D’Artagnan didn’t fight.

Didn’t try to breathe.

He simply allowed himself to sink towards the rocky river bed, part of the chair having fragmented a little by leaving him still trapped. Ironically the Gascon was slightly relived. Witches were supposed to float, having been renounced by the pure water as a symbol of their christening being unreal. Given that d’Artagnan had clearly sunk, it proved he wasn’t renounced by his God, and that he wasn’t the monster he’d thought he was.

He wanted to believe the others would come for him. That he’d see Athos’ beautiful eyes, and hear Porthos’ laugh or even simply see Aramis smile…

But the darkness fading around him told him not to believe in such impossible things.

They likely had no idea what was happening.

This would destroy them.

Fleetingly, as d’Artagnan’s mind began to float with the water, his lungs burning hungrily for the oxygen he would never taste again, his mind turned to his pups. The three squirming beings wriggling restlessly in his stomach. The Omega was certain that he was crying, only his eyes were closed and suddenly everything ` was fading out, his lips loosening and allowing the water in.

Numbly d’Artagnan released his final prayers, allowing his head to fall back weakly as water pooled inside his mouth. Unable to register the hands wrapping around his waist as he finally let go.

***


	25. Chapter 25

Athos broke from the water, gasping for breath and blinking frantically. Somewhere along the water bank Thomas skittered off into the bushes.

Growling under his breath, a drenched young Comte de la Fère stomped form the watery depths and towards his giggling brother as he pulled a strange elongated weed from his soaked hair. “Really, Tommy?” He snapped, patting down his dirtied knees, poignantly ignoring Thomas’ incredibly contagious laughter which shook the very ground he stood on.

Thomas crooned as Athos slumped against the dewy bank and stared solemnly across the waters and shuffled eagerly closer. “I’m sorry, Ollie.” Thomas smirked, nuzzling against Athos’ damp shoulder.

Athos grunted and shoved Thomas off his shoulder, sighing in frustation as Thomas latched back on automatically. “You were right you know, Ollie.” Thomas mumbled. “Father shouldn’t have shouted like that, you were right to defend Mother.”

Athos chewed his lip and slung his arm back over his brother. “You shouldn’t have followed me, Tommy.” He mumbled, rubbing circles on his little brothers back. “I needed some time alone.”

“Yes well, you weren’t being very alert.” Thomas pointed out, referring to how easily he’d managed to sneak up on his older brother, giving him the ideal opening to push him into the water. “I could have been a bandit for all you knew!”

Athos chuckled and nudged his brother good naturedly. “Yeah, yeah.”

“Eh,” Thomas grinned. “At least you’re a good swimmer.”

***

Only this time as Athos burst from the watery depths nobody was giggling in the bushes instead there were crowds in uproar along the shore, and instead of just carrying a wounded ego, he had a lifeless pregnant Omega in his arms.

Aramis was waist deep close to the bank his arms opened as Athos tugged d’Artagnan’s weightless body towards him, numbly handing him over Aramis who proceeded to grapple over the Omega’s body desperately as Porthos helped lift him to shore.

The crowds had long begun to scatter and the only people left were the Alphas and their Omega, a priest who looked utterly distraught and two older Beta women who’d promptly given them their shawls to cover the Gascon with.

Aramis was pressing his finger against d’Artagnan’s faint pulse beneath the skin of his throat, instructing Porthos to roll d’Artagnan over before proceeding to roughly slap him on the back as Athos came round to cradle the Gascon’s head and pry his mouth open.

“Come on.” Aramis muttered, still pounding on d’Artagnan’s back desperately. “Come on.”

And as if answering his prayer, d’Artagnan’s body suddenly convulsed and spluttered back to life, hacking up the lake water that had settled within his lungs.

Immediately Porthos moved to hold d’Artagnan, helping to calm him as he hurled the rest of the water from his body. Aramis was immediately calling from someone to help him get d’Artagnan up onto his horse, climbing up behind him to keep him upright.

“We have to get him warm.” Aramis stated hurriedly as he stirred his horse into action. “Now.”  


Athos snapped back into action, mounting his horse and turning impedingly towards the remaining villagers. “You tried to drown an innocent Omega who is with pup.” He ground out. “The King shall be alerted of this altercation, as d’Artagnan is the King’s own champion. He will also be told of those who stayed to help and those who fled.” Athos let the threat hand in the warm air. “God help your souls.”

***

The physician left pale and worn. The stress and additional sadness of the situation having drained every ounce of energy from his weary body.

“How is he?” A burly man, who he now knows as Porthos, asked moving forwards.

The tired man sighed. “He is doing well given the circumstances. The pups still have steady heart beats and the majority of water has been removed from d’Artagnan’s lungs. Other than that he needs to be kept warm, well fed and cared for. It is important you care for his mental state also, but I trust you can handle that.”

Athos stared at the man in a stunned silence.

“Yes,” The physician chuckled at the stoic man’s expression. “I’m not a supporter of the common misconceptions with illness’ of the mind. Care and guidance is what those in need, require. Not unsupported accusations and murderous treatments.” He paused and gazed sadly at the men before him. “My wife had similar ailments.”

Athos nodded in understanding and continued to walk the Beta Physician out of the house, thanking him profusely as they went.

Meanwhile Porthos had made his way back into their quarters, where Aramis was snuggled against a sleeping but shivering d’Artagnan. Tiptoeing softly, the larger man slipped in beside the Gascon, and wrapped his arms around his shaking frame, his fingers immediately tangling in the Omega’s still partially damp hair and his lips tenderly kissing his forehead.

Aramis smiled over d’Artagnan’s shoulder before moving from his spot to go and tend to Anais. Porthos nodded back, and the Gascon stirred a little before snuggling back into the Alpha.

“It’s okay.” Porthos soothed him softly. “You’re safe now.”

***

 

 


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I haven’t been updating as much as I had wanted to. Truth be told the real world got in the way and I found myself working nine hour shifts at a new Café without anywhere near a substantial amount of pay. Coupled with my therapy and goal setting activities such as attending events and being able to walk into a supermarket without hyperventilating, it’s all been a bit of a whirlwind. So, on Friday I’m going to quit my job XD  
> Hopefully then I can start updating more frequently and get out this particular story, All That Remains and two more stories I’ve been working on in the little free time I have.  
> Otherwise, Happy Summer!  
> All my love,  
> Calon.  
> xxx  
> (P.S- I will be trying to reply to all your wonderful comments before too long, and owe all those who have yet to received a response and apology.)

d’Artagnan blinked blearily back to consciousness, his nose tickling slightly as it rubbed unconsciously against Porthos’ rough shirt. Goosebumps rippled over the Gascon’s skin and he sleepily curled into the large Alpha, who in turn, tightened his hold around the Omega while he slept.

Sunlight was sailing through the curtains once more, and d’Artagnan relished in the scent of cooking breakfast and the heat from the fire across the room as he watched the sun rise. Distantly he notes, he can just make out the soft giggling of Anais and a stern French Tutelage speech from Athos mumbled quietly from down the hall.

Porthos stirred and shifted as he too awoke from his sleep.

“Hey.” He smiled, his voice husky from sleep and his eyes blinking furiously in an attempt to focus on the Gascon. “How are you feeling?”

d’Artagnan allowed a shy smile, registering the sore ache on his lungs and the sharp burning that settled in his throat as well as the weariness embedded deep within his bones. His brain still muddled from the stress of recent events, d’Artagnan had only just managed to piece together what exactly had happened.

“The pups?” He breathed suddenly, his hand moving immediately to rest against his stomach, his eyes wide and pleading with Porthos’.

“They’re okay,” Porthos jumped in, his own hand moving to rest atop d’Artagnan’s stomach. “They’re okay.”

A sigh of overwhelming relief escaped d’Artagnan and suddenly there were tears pooling in his eyes. Porthos noticed this and for a moment of brief panic, took to murmuring soothing words and rubbing his hands up and down the Gascon’s arms in a comforting movement. “Hey, hey,” He mumbled, pulling the Omega close to his chest. “You’re safe now, I’ve got you. Nobody can hurt you now.”

Weakly the Gascon sniffed against the larger man’s chest, his hormones raging through his veins, sending confusing waves of pain, sadness, happiness, relief and fear through his body at fluctuating rates. “Why would she do that?” d’Artagnan whispered brokenly against Porthos’ chest. “Why would _they_ do that?”

Porthos frowned at the Omega’s words, his hands ceasing with their movements. “What do you mean ‘she’?”

D’Artagnan shifted and looked up at his mate tiredly. “Catherine Deneuve, a relation to Athos, so she said.”

Porthos blinked in shock and made a mental note to tell Athos the second d’Artagnan settled back down to sleep; a range coiling in his stomach at the thought that someone Athos may consider family had betrayed him so.

Sensing Porthos’ sudden switch in mood, d’Artagnan turned to his mate and rested his head against his chest, curling his fingers in his shirt. “Maybe we shouldn’t tell him?” He asked quietly, his brow furrowed. “Save him the pain.”

Porthos shook his head vehemently. “And let her get away?” He sneered angrily at the thought. “No way in hell is that going to happen.”

d’Artagnan nodded slowly and settled back down against Porthos sleepily. “People are scared.” Porthos murmured placing a kiss on the Gascon’s head as he remembered the question d’Artagnan had asked him mere moments earlier. The Omega frowned in confusion and looked up at his mate, perplexed. “They did it because they were scared. It can take only one sick and twisted person to convert a whole township of people through fear.”

d’Artagnan paused and nodded a little, showing his understanding.

“People are selfish creatures.” Porthos added. “They want to keep themselves safe on instinct alone…it’s very rare to come across those who put others before themselves because it goes against their every instinct of self-preservation.”

A small smile graced d’Artagnan’s face. “Like you.” He added softly, nuzzling into Porthos’ chest, spreading warmth through the man’s heart at the obvious sign of comfortable affection displayed by his mate.

“And you.” He chuckled gently, kissing the top of the Gascon’s head.

***


	27. Chapter 27

** Three Months Later. **

“Well done, nearly there.” The midwife rasped. “One more push.”

Gazing helplessly at the ceiling, d’Artagnan fought the flashbacks which continued to resurface to his mind, his hands gripping the sheets desperately, reminding himself continuously that this time he wasn’t alone. That he wasn’t helpless.

Just as he began to give in to the impending panic, a hand curled it’s way around d’Artagnan’s and a cool cloth was swiped across his forehead. Blinking up at the figures before him, d’Artagnan noticed Athos holding his hand and pleading with him to stay strong, Porthos holding him up against his chest and Aramis wiping his forehead and neck to keep him cool, all whilst he endured the most unworldly pain through his abdomen.

“Can’t…” The Gascon murmured, the five hour labour taking its toll on the weary Omega. “Can’t…”

His three mates moaned heartbrokenly, a wave of hands carding their way through his hair and gazing guiltily upon him.

“Hush, Mi Vida.” Aramis soothed him, “You’re nearly there now, Queirda. So close now.”

Swallowing thickly and squeezing Athos’ hand back, so much so that he was certain the bones beneath his skin had shifted, the Omega cried out as he pushed one more time.

Letting is eyes momentarily slip closed as he focused on slowing his breathing, d’Artagnan was overwhelmed at the sound he heard; bursting into tears as a shrill cry broke through the buzzing room. His eyes flying open as the Midwife passed his pup over to the second midwife to wrap the small bundle in blankets.

Sobbing openly and leaning against Porthos’ broad shoulders, d’Artagnan listened his Alpha’s praises as the midwife placed his child in his arms.

“An Alpha boy.” The woman smiled, at the foursome.

“Thomas,” d’Artagnan croaked as he smiled down at his babe, pure joy swelling in his chest at the sight of his precious gift.

“Thomas Issac d’Herblay la Fere.” Aramis chimed, tears pooled in the Spaniard’s eyes.

Porthos began to make some inappropriate comment only to have d’Artagnan moan as another contraction hit him, cutting him short. Immediately, the Sharpshooter removed the pup hesitantly from his Oman’s arms and the midwife moved back to aid the Omega through his second birthing.

Leaning back into Porthos’ arms, d’Artagnan, filled with a new fire, the Gascon pushed down with a sudden ferocity, eager to meet his second and third pups.

Within the sixth and seventh hours, d’Artagnan managed to birth two beautiful pups; an Omega boy and a Beta girl, named Alexandre Rene de La Fere and Pauline Francoise du Vallon La Fere.

“They’re perfect.” Athos breathed as d’Artagnan gazed sleepily upon his mates and new-born pups with a soft smile. Having witnessed three strong Alphas be reduced to mewling balls of adoration at the sights of their new pups, more so when they woke Anais who turned into a bouncing and excitable mess at the sights of her new brothers and sister.

The Gascon grinned. “They are, aren’t they?”

Athos smiled up at his mate from where he’d been gazing at little Pauline. “Get some rest, Mon Amour.” He murmured, pressing a kiss to his mates head carefully.

“Thank you.” d’Artagnan mumbled as his eyes slipped closed, smiling contently as Porthos, who had dumped all the nappy changing duty on Aramis and made a run for it, settled down behind him, pressing a kiss against the back of his neck and holding him closely.

“For what, love?” Porthos questioned as Athos seemed equally as complexed.

“For…staying with me, for…for this…” The Omega yawned, nodding around their room. The Alpha’s paused to glance around.

Aramis was on a rocking chair in the corner close to the roaring fire, holding both a sleeping pair of pups who had squashed their faces up against their Alphan’s chest. Athos was laying back in their chase beside d’Artagnan’s cleaned bed holding the third pup, and Anais was snuggled up against her Oman’s side, snoring softly. Across the room food was lain out along with pain medication for d’Artagnan. _Everything in its place. Everything where it should be._

The two Alphas turned to their Omega to respond, only to find he’d drifted off to sleep and instead shared knowing smiles.

“Don’t mention it.” Porthos chuckled, smiling lovingly at the Gascon before settling down against him.

Athos shook his head fondly and turned back to the sleeping bundle in his arms, pressing a kiss against her little head, making Pauline smile in her sleep. Yet Athos couldn’t enjoy this serene moment as a family. No, instead Athos felt an unnerving wave of anger. A pure raw determination to protect his family. To find Catherine Deneuve.

_And to kill her._

 

***


	28. Chapter 28

** One Month Later **

d’Artagnan smiled broadly as little Thomas giggled up at him, pulling playfully at his shirt whilst garbling some squealing sound and biting the material, a glint of mischief in his eyes. Athos was knelt behind him on the bed, his hand around d’Artagnan’s waist and his head resting heavily against the Omega’s shoulder, making odd noises at the small pup.

Alike the other terrible two, Thomas had darkened skin. His hair, although compared to Alex’s there wasn’t much, was lighter; a more sandy colour compared to the others who had Aramis’ dark and curly manes. Thomas also had darker eyes than the others. Pauline’s were hazel and Alex’s were a soft brown, yet Thomas’ were the darkest brown d’Artagnan had ever seen. So dark, it was hard to mark where the pupil began and his iris ended.

They were beautiful, but as d’Artagnan had to keep reminding Anais, she was as beautiful is not more. The troublesome toddler had begun to show some questionable behavior following the early weeks of her siblings’ arrival. Anais was scared her Alphans’ would abandon her and her Oman for the pups, which she had made very clear by proving to be extremely demanding and attention seeking. She also spent more time next to her Oman once again, all but hissing at her Alphans’ when she felt they weren’t acting appropriately, which was pretty much simply breathing in Anais’ books. d’Artagnan had desperately tried to convince her that her father’s weren’t going to leave them, but given that he had also had these worries, he hadn’t been making much progress in convincing her.

Not until the last few weeks, when finally the toddling pup had decided to let down her guard and enjoy their family-like life.

“His Majesty wrote to us earlier in this week,” Athos mumbled, his lips resting on d’Artagnan’s shoulder as he watched the pup smile up at them both. “He wants us to return to Paris.” He paused. “How do you feel about that?” His hands curled fully around d’Artagnan who’d someone how slimmed down quite readily following his pregnancy. The older man put it down to good genes and the fact he’d demanded Aramis help him get back into shape, which he didn’t mind since d’Artagnan had been eating well and seemed healthy once again, despite the fact he sorely missed d’Artagnan’s waddling walk.

d’Artagnan shrugged and cooed at Alex who latched onto his finger and pulled it to his mouth. “Yeah,” He said eventually, “Let’s go home.”

Athos grinned.

***

“No!” Aramis cried, flopping onto the bed. “You can go!”

Porthos glared at the over-dramatic man draped over him and grunted disapprovingly, shoving him off and onto the floor with a rather feminine yelp.

From the other room Pauline continued to wail for the fifth time that night, demanding attention from her weary parents.

Aramis snarled indignantly and jumped back to his feet, spurring d’Artagnan to peel himself from Athos who groaned in response. Since the triplets had been born, the three Alpha’s had wanted nothing more than to bed their Omega once again. However, d’Artagnan would simply remind them that four pups were enough, especially when the three Alpha’s made to take their mate and Anias happened to walk in and explain that she couldn’t sleep and needed her Oman. Leaving Athos to sleep on the floor, Aramis on the chaise and Porthos in the large metallic water basin, all to the Gascon’s great amusement.

The slender Omega rolled over and tugged at Aramis’ hand pulling him into bed with him, curling his body automatically around his mate. Athos glared at them grumpily. “I’ll go then.” He growled at the pairs smug faces, stomping moodily from the room.

Aramis chuckled and pressed a kiss to the Omega’s lips, grinning at the possessive growl Porthos released from behind him. The larger Alpha leapt round the bed and came up behind d’Artagnan, wrapping his arms protectively around the Gascon, and all but pulling d’Artagnan away from the devious Aramis.

Pulling lightly at the Omega’s hair making him moan, Porthos pulled d’Artagnan’s lips towards his and captured them in a deep kiss. Aramis smirked cheekily as he watched the two beautiful men before him. He purred happily when d’Artagnan reached round to tug him closer, wrapping his legs around the Alpha.

Porthos meant to deepen the kiss only to stop abruptly. d’Artagnan blinked up at him, as did Aramis.

“Where the hell is Athos?” He asked suddenly.

The room was silent; the sound of crying no more…in fact there was no sound at all.

d’Artagnan raced to his feet, stumbling blindly out of their room and to the triplets adjoined rooms next door, ignoring both Aramis’ and Porthos’ cries of alarm.

Landing in a heap in the room, d’Artagnan screamed in fury at the emptiness that encased the chamber and opened window before him, curtains blowing ominously against the breeze.

“She took them!” He cried as Aramis and Porthos stumbled in behind them, Porthos wrapping his arms around d’Artagnan as he staggered towards the window. “She took them all!”

***


	29. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello guys!  
> Sorry I disappeared once again- Hectic Summer Holiday Shenanigans!  
> Hopefully I can finish up before too long once I'm on holiday in England!  
> All my love,  
> Calon.  
> xxx

Athos groaned as he was dragged unwillingly back to consciousness. The room was dimly lit, the floor damp and wooden walls dripping water and violent green moss. There was a window in the far corner, masked with soft silk curtains, moth eaten and frayed.

“It’s been a long time since we were here, Olivier.” A woman’s voice floated from behind him, and Athos uncoordinatedly rolled over to see her. His hands were bound, he noted in confusion. “As children we would often come here,” Athos’ eyes still blurred, could not make out the figure sauntering towards him; something held in the woman’s arms. “You’d play the knight in shining armour and, I the damsel. Thomas would be your fellow comrade…”

Sluggishly Athos’ mind began to catch up with him.

“Well, that all ended when we became adolescents of course,” She grinned, coming fully into focus before Athos. “No, you had _other_ ideas for this place when we were older.”

“Catherine?” Athos asked in utter shock. “Wha-What?”

Catherine smiled happily down at the battered man before her, before turning to face the pup in her arms. With a soft little cry from the babe, Athos’ memories came flooding back. Sitting up suddenly on his knees, his head spinning at the sudden movement, the Alpha released an aggressive growl of warning. “Let her go.” He grunted dangerously.

Catherine chuckled and stroked Pauline’s darkened cheek, grinning when the pup pulled away slightly and released a pathetic whine. “You know,” She sighed, strolling across the room and back to the door as Athos pulled desperately at his chains. “We could have had pups just like this, Athos.” She stopped and gazed over her shoulder. “But you had to run off with that Alpha _bitch_ didn’t you? Had to throw away both our lives together and Thomas’ life! And now?” She yelled, causing little Pauline to burst into tears at the sound, and Athos to flinched at the searing words. “Now, you’re bedding an Omega Whore! A peasant! A mentally disturbed, peasant Omega Whore!”

“d’Artagnan is one of the best men I know!” Athos snapped, deep fury in his eyes. “Don’t you ever speak of my mate like that!”

Catherine laughed bitterly and turned to point a finger at him, a maddened gaze in her eyes. “I will speak of that slut as I wish! And you will accept it or your precious pups are as good as dead, you understand me, Olivier?”

Athos clamped his jaw closed and stared at her furiously.

“You dare lay a finger on them,” He hummed lowly, a threatening yet calm tone to his voice, “And I will hunt you down,” He growled, his voice rising steadily. “And kill you!” He yelled and the door slammed behind Catherine and Athos was in darkness.

***

Aramis gripped d’Artagnan tightly and rocked them gently on the floor, his face buried in the back of the Gascon’s neck as he hummed a soft Spanish lullaby to try and soothe the still inconsolable Gascon.

“Why would she take them?” He sobbed, tears still streaming down his tear-reddened cheeks.

“Hush now, Querida.” The Sharpshooter soothed, as Porthos re-entered with some broth and blankets and a warm smile. “We will find them.”

Porthos glanced over the top of d’Artagnan’s head and suddenly froze.

“Porthos?” Aramis queried jovially, “Are you really going to tormented us and simply stand there with our meals?” But his laughter soon died when he too noted the shifting movement behind him. Pushing d’Artagnan suddenly behind him and aiming his pistol towards the door where a figure seemed to be huddled behind.

“I know you’re there.” He growled as d’Artagnan tried to pull away from Porthos’ strong, restraining arms. “Show yourself!”

With his finger itching at the trigger Aramis watched intently as the figure moved closer to the opening of the room.

“Papa?” A timid voice gasped from the shadows.

Aramis’ hand began trembling wildly and the pistol fell from his hand and crashed to the floor as little Anais revealed herself from her hiding spot.

Stumbling fully to his feet, Aramis lunged at the toddler and pulled her into his arms, kissing her forehead fiercely, before releasing her into d’Artagnan’s trembling arms who hugged his pup back tightly as Porthos gripped the two of them, wrapped in utter shock.

“Mon petite,” d’Artagnan gasped, examining Anais face and snarling at the small cut on her upper lip, “What happened to you?”

Young Anais gazed up into her Oman’s searching eyes. “Papa ‘Thos told me play hidey-ing and seek,” She explained, “He say ‘no come out until Oman comes’ ‘cause he hear-ded noise outside.” Porthos shifted uneasily as his pup continued. “Then two big Alphas take him and lady with blue eyes come in.” At her parents sudden anger and frustration, Anais believed she had done something wrong and nuzzled into her Oman’s shoulder. “I stay hide-ed-ing.” She whimpered into his collar and d’Artagnan crooned back softly, wrapping his arms around his pup and lifting her up.

“No, no, no,” He mumbled, “You’ve done nothing wrong, petite. You did exactly what your Alphan said you should do. You did well, petite.”

Anais smiled a little at the praise and was happily placed into Aramis’ arms.

“Really, Papa?” She asked as Aramis placed a little kiss on her now wrinkled nose, eliciting a giggle from the toddler.

“Yes, Chiquita.” The Spaniard reassured her. “You did well.”

“Now,” Porthos sighed, taking Anais from Aramis’ arms and smiling as the toddler wrapped her arms around hi broad shoulders, “Let’s go get papa ‘Thos, hmm?”

***

“d’Artagnan.” Aramis tried, reaching feebly for the Omega’s arm as he rushed past him.

The Gascon was racing wildly around, loading pistols, sharpening swords and readying his armour. With paternal instincts having kicked in fully and his worry for Athos having peaked, the young man had hereby declared war on Catherine and was readying to hunt her down.

“I don’t want to hear it, Aramis.” d’Artagnan growled under his breath as he strapped his weapons to his belt. “I am ready, capable and prepared for this and _nothing_ you can say will stop me from joining you.”

Aramis rolled his eyes and sighed heavily at the Gascon’s stubbornness, though it did offer him some comfort that _finally_ d’Artagnan was coming back into his own.

d’Artagnan had taken to a threatening stance and was glaring challengingly at the Alpha. Aramis grinned, the Gascon looked undeniably attractive when he was angry.

“Well then,” The Sharpshooter chuckled, “I suppose… I _can’t_ say no…”

***


	30. Chapter 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!  
> And yes; I'm alive, sun tanned and extremely nervous about school!   
> I received my exam results four days ago and bloody nailed them, much to the surprise of all my teachers XD!  
> Proud to say I have 7A's, 2B's, 1C and a cheeky little A*!  
> And yes, I checked that they were my results and not someone else's!   
> But anyway, enough about all that boring stuff! I hope all you exam-doers did well too and all those heading back into school or starting anew have the best of luck! Oh, and I hope you enjoy this chapter! XD  
> All my love,  
> Calon.  
> xxx

Athos was awoken by a soft disturbance in the air; something shifting dangerously through the shadows and slipping though the dampened wood, sneaking its way into Athos’ sub consciousness. Wincing slightly as the gash (acquired when one of Catherine’s brutes decided to drunkenly attack the Alpha), on the back of his head spiked in pain, Athos pushed himself up and leant against the wall.

With a heightened sense of awareness, the Alpha tried to identify the familiarity of said disturbance, his eyes watching for shadows flickering beneath the steady door. It was in that moment that the disturbance or now, as Athos realized, _scent_ , drew nearer that said door flew open with a crash and two familiar figures were dragged in, bloodied and bruised.

_Aramis and Porthos._

The two men who dragged the pair in flashed toothy grins at Athos and turned to leave as Catherine swanned in, sporting a rather smug smile. She rested her heel on Aramis back as they both grunted and inched a little closer to Athos.

“I brought you some play mates, Athos.” She chuckled stepping over the two bruised Alphas. “All I have to do now is find your Whore and the Bastard daughter and we can all play happy families.” She chuckled and dismissed how Aramis and Porthos both spat curses at the deranged woman. “Not long now.” She added and skipped back out of the room, closing the door firmly behind her.

Almost immediately Athos lurched forwards and pulled the pair into a teary embrace before pulling back and studying the various black eyes and cuts on their faces. “Are you hurt? Did they hurt you?” He asked breathlessly, pressing a fierce kiss onto both their foreheads.

“We’re fine.” Aramis breathed out, closing his eyes and relishing in the feeling of his lover holding him once again. “You?”

Athos nodded briskly, “Fine, fine. d’Artagnan?” He asked the concern blatant in his eyes. He couldn’t deny that he was even more worried at the fact that the Gascon was now alone and most likely unaware of their dire situation.

Porthos and Aramis shared sheepish glances and Athos’ could barely supress his own growl.

“He’s here, isn’t he?” He snarled, closing his eyes and tilting his head up to the ceiling in sheer defeat.

***

Tiptoeing along the creaking and groaning passageways, d’Artagnan all but held his breath as he danced between the shadows. His heart was thundering in his chest, his throat tight and dry and mind racing with adrenaline. His soul goal was to save his Alphas and Pups, and to find the woman who’d taken them.

Having watched both Porthos and Aramis be dragged away barely conscious by a group of brutes, d’Artagnan’s mind was sent reeling; doubts and fear swirling in his mind. Was he capable of doing  this?

Shaking his head, rolling his shoulders and releasing a steady breath, d’Artagnan continued along his route towards the rooms the other two had been dragged to. Ducking into a rickety archway as footsteps drew closer, the Omega watch furiously as Catherine marched past. With every ounce of willpower, the hot headed Gascon managed to restrain himself from launching at the woman and waited for her and her goons to turn the corner at the end of the passageway before he continued towards his mates.

The familiar scents of his mates spilled giddiness across d’Artagnan’s stomach and he swiftly dropped down on his knees and began picking the lock on the door, unawares of the large Alpha stalking towards his turned back.

Letting out a little breath of relief as the lock broke open; the Gascon smiled to himself and made to pull open the door. However, as his hand drew closer to the old door handle a heavy hand landed roughly on his shoulder and an ominous shadow fell over him.

Switching almost immediately into defence, the Gascon gripped the hand on his shoulder and twisted it violently as he spun, an ominous crack sounding as the Alpha’s shoulder was ripped from its socket. In a single skilled and practiced movement, the Omega slammed his knee into the man’s stomach and smashed his head against the door in front of them.

Panting heavily form both adrenaline and exhaustion the Gascon grinned down at the now very much unconscious Alpha at his feet and dragged open the door to discover three very confused and  stunned Alphas.

Moments of deadly silence passed as his mates blinked up at him in perplexed silence, before finally Porthos opened his mouth.

“You took your time.”

***


End file.
